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<h2> THE WONDER MAKER </h2>
<p>Come, if thou'rt cold to Summer's charms,<br/>
Her clouds of green, her starry flowers,<br/>
And let this bird, this wandering bird,<br/>
Make his fine wonder yours;<br/>
He, hiding in the leaves so green,<br/>
When sampling this fair world of ours,<br/>
Cries cuckoo, clear; and like Lot's wife,<br/>
I look, though it should cost my life.<br/>
<br/>
When I can hear that charmed one's voice,<br/>
I taste of immortality;<br/>
My joy's so great that on my heart<br/>
Doth lie eternity,<br/>
As light as any little flower—<br/>
So strong a wonder works in me;<br/>
Cuckoo! he cries, and fills my soul<br/>
With all that's rich and beautiful.<br/></p>
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