The Convalescent

O strange, O sweetly warm Falls the sunshine on my cheek. I taste the cordial North; In the pines I hear him speak. A new, a tender charm Is in my life begun, To joy that opens forth As the sunflower to the sun. Winds that with moving light Wash heaven, and drive the showers! Ferns uncurling free, Wet heads of nodding flowers! O clouds, loftily bright, That build your domes in the blue, Is the world new--made for me? Is it I that am born anew? My weak steps prove in thee, Earth, a strength more stable. Limbs, that fever shook, Thy wholesome airs enable. Life by both hands raises me To stand firm on my feet: Into her eyes I look And find, to trust her, sweet.