What will they do when I am gone? It is plain 
That they will do without me as the rain 
Can do without the flowers and the grass 
That profit by it and must perish without. 
I have but seen them in the loud street pass; 
And I was naught to them. I turned about 
To see them disappearing carelessly. 
But what if I in them as they in me 
Nourished what has great value and no price? 
Almost I thought that rain thirsts for a draught 
Which only in the blossom's chalice lies, 
Until that one turned back and lightly laughed.