Classic Poem

The sower's face is secret,
The sower's stride is long
Across the pathless places
The homeless voids among.
(Join we hands over sunset lands,
Sing we the daisy-song.)

Behind the great grey sower
To whom all voids belong
The sun-seeds float and eddy
The fire-grains drift and throng.
(Join we hands over sunset lands,
Sing we the daisy-song.)