Waking

When the first language broke With its warm pain of speech Strong on the helpless blood, You were the single word My lips desired to reach, Say, and be understood.

When the first touch awoke And hand could sense the air Curving upon its palm, You the excitement took To your own bosom, where It found its proper calm.

And when the eyesight shone In its first glance, and saw The various world uprise, You were the still design That gave the colors law To my instructed eyes.

Voice of the earliest song That brought the realm of sound Docilely to accord, Queen of the cymbals' ring With silver music crowned And the obedient word,

Whenever out of night I tremblingly awake To the world's sudden flame, You, in your grace of light, And for compassion's sake, Tell me my truest name.