Dewdrop

C OME ride with me in my little car, close by my side
      to-day,
As I am booked for a long, long trip and many fair miles away;
And only by going you see the sights and hear of the things
     at hand
And partake of the fruits so sweetly ripe, that compass the
      sea and land.

I have lived for a million years no doubt: my home is the
     rolling sea,
But my house is the place I hang my hat wherever I chance to
     be;
On imperial occasions I change my suit; I change my form as
     well,
And I change my color, as all may know, yet that I need not
     tell.

I am found in the clouds that are silver-lined, likewise on the
     mountain high
At a dizzy height, where man comes not, yet may reach with
     his searching eye;
And my charity mantle I fondly spread o'er the cold old
     rocks that frown
At the lesser heights, which no mantle have, except as a
      winter gown.

At times I am sad and sick at heart, for it seems I have lived
     in vain
When I am dissolved in the atmosphere and disappear on the
     plain;
But a certain law that is perfect quite, restores what I
     thought was lost
And strangely, no fee-for the One Just Judge would impose
     no unnatural cost.
I am cradled at times in the rolling deep, where mermaids
     strangely sing;
When they come to the surface and brush their hair, with the
     little combs they bring;
And the moon may beam on the golden road, or the caps of
     white may ride
At a greater height than a sleeping sea, as they come with the
     rushing tide.

I go to the land of the sunny South and through a Hand
     Divine,
I feed the blossoms and fruit likewise, though I slept in the
     ocean's brine;
I have gladdened the world in my little car and have graced
     the rainbow true,

And the blade of grass has my nectar quaffed, through the
      pearl of the morning dew.