The Cherry Boughs

Oh, now the heavenly cherry boughs,
That are so good to know!
Oh, now the haunting cherry boughs,
Straight up to God they go!

And now that stilly foot I hear,
A-following through the trees;
And in the stopping of the wind,
The little, wrangling bees.

The world is but a gray, gray dust,
Beaten past me small and thin:
And life this space blown clear of all
Except the Once Has Been.

Under the cherry boughs it stands
So stilly and so kind;
And I can hear it following
In the stopping of the wind.