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Thou airy ship, thou whitish mist! 
Thou float on ocean and the dale
Thou art a painting by my Lord! 
A painting which is not for sale

Thou sooth the hearts of all on earth
Thou heaths and meadows irrigate
Thy castle is in airy field
From earth and heaven isolate
 
O sailing boat, o shroud of earth 
Thou child of sky and forlorn sea
Thou fly with gales soon after birth
O thou that in a wink can flee

Who lives in dark and whitish manse
Who roar as lion  in thy soft heart
Who shine in golden hues in dense
Who made their pictures by His heart

O cloud all  whitish gems of thee
For thirsty earth are heaven's wine
Thou art a ray of hope for me
Thy breath with mine is intertwine
She roams  in several guise with thee
This soul of mine with soul of thine

At night I mount on Wordsworth hills
They gazed at me with eyes cold
Then wandered I in Cocker mouth
And met the trees there centuries old
Oh may that I could fly with thee
And float on dales and vales and hills
O may that I, with magic pen
Compose a rhyme on daffodils
That whisper in unended rows
By ruins of ancient water mills
Thou pour and pour that gems of thine
On sand on land on dales and hills

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