A Hawthorn Berry

How sweet a thought,

How strange a deed,

To house such glory in a seed--

A berry, shining rufously,

Like scarlet coral in the sea!

A berry, rounder than a ring,

So round, it harbours everything;

So red, that all the blood of men

Could never paint it so again.

And, as I hold it in my hand,

A fragrance steals across the land:

Rich, on the wintry heaven, I see

A white, immortal hawthorn-tree.