Children of earth are we, Lovers of land and sea, Of hill, of brook, of tree, Of all things fair; Of all things dark or bright, Born of the day and night, Red rose and lily white And dusky hair. Yet not alone from earth Do we derive our birth. What were our singing worth Were this the whole? Somewhere from heaven afar Hath dropped a fiery star, Which makes us what we are, Which is our soul.