SUBTLE INFLUENCE
The flower that lifts its head at morn
Of all its newborn grace unshorn
Breathes out unconscious, though it proves
An odor to despise or love;
Nor is its breath unruled by laws,
A useless myth without a cause;
The sap concealed by Nature's arts
Supplies the odor it imparts,
The juices with its nature blent
Make up its sweet or noxious scent;
Thus subtle influence wafts abroad
A power for evil or for good,
Unrealized its subtle might,
Unrealized its endless flight;
But none life's humblest field may share,
And leave unchanged its atmosphere,
While hidden forces shall control
The subtle incense of the soul.
Of all its newborn grace unshorn
Breathes out unconscious, though it proves
An odor to despise or love;
Nor is its breath unruled by laws,
A useless myth without a cause;
The sap concealed by Nature's arts
Supplies the odor it imparts,
The juices with its nature blent
Make up its sweet or noxious scent;
Thus subtle influence wafts abroad
A power for evil or for good,
Unrealized its subtle might,
Unrealized its endless flight;
But none life's humblest field may share,
And leave unchanged its atmosphere,
While hidden forces shall control
The subtle incense of the soul.