I raced across from field to field,
Felt the wind sweeping past my face;
Feast’d my eyes on the golden yield:
On the padi dancing with grace.

A rain-drop rested on my palm,
A silver-drop from heavens high.
Nature’s cool freshness is a balm,
Rests the mind aft resting the eye.

I saw a youthful sunny face
Whose eyes were flushed with a soft light;
As at it I did gape and gaze,
The world grew dim, the face grew bright.

I shook my head, I blinked my eyes;
Across the face danced a soft glow.
It smiled and dimmed into the skies;
I looked everywhere high and low.

I saw it thrice, I lost it thrice;
I missed it a hundred times more.
It seemed to tease with gentle eyes,
And with parting smiles left me sore.