Wallace Stevens' "Sunday Morning"

I was flipping through one of my favorite anthologies of American Literature (Harper American Lit. Vol. II!) on Monday morning while packing to return to school when I came across the poem "Sunday Morning" written by Wallace Stevens in 1915. I had heard of Stevens before but didn't know much else. The second stanza of the poem, especially its focus on divinity and natural imagery, stayed with me throughout the day.

"Sunday Morning" 

by Wallace Stevens

II

Why should she give her bounty to the dead?

What is divinity if it can come 

Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,

In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else

In any balm or beauty of the earth,

Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?

Divinity must live within herself:

Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;

Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued

Elations when the forest blooms; gusty

Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

The bough of summer and the winter branch.

These are the measures destined for her soul.