Robinson Jeffers - Wonder and Joy lyrics

The things that one grows tired of--O, be sure They are only foolish artificial things! Can a bird ever tire of having wings? And I, so long as life and sense endure, (Or brief be they!) shall nevermore inure My heart to the recurrence of the springs, Of the gray dawns, the gracious evenings, The infinite wheeling stars. A wonder pure Must ever well within me to behold Venus decline; or great Orion, whose belt Is studded with three nails of burning gold, Ascend the winter heaven. Who never felt This wondering joy may yet be good or great: But envy him not: he is not fortunate.