Should my spirit soar with singing and careless express itself
or rather to be measured and counted out so as to example good meter?
I had better use of my time than to work slavishly at Precision's bidding
and trust more fully my own heart's praising.
Let me, as Spring, seemingly overnight erupt fully present
And not to men's criticism fear so that eked out cautiously I reveal myself.
Glorious sun I take as my model!
Whose own light heralds it brilliant self.
Outside my window a bird's chorus teaches me nature's love of spontaneity,
and to seek less the good favor of men than my own perfect self in God.
