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40

Last night we walked among the paths of air;
The earth with all its rude and ancient scars
Had faded out, and there was nothing there
But starlight and the stars.

Each star stood planted like a budding shoot,
And on the ground of Heaven a crescent lay—
Lay like the rind of some exotic fruit
A god had thrown away.

And further still we wandered till we came
Upon the very burning edge of space,
And saw the unborn worlds still wrapped in flame
Hiding God's face.

And then my soul in agony and fear

Evening Song

My song will rest while I rest. I struggle along. I'll get back to the corn and the open fields. Don't fret, love, I'll come out all right.
Back of Chicago the open fields. Were you ever there—trains coming toward you out of the West—streaks of light on the long gray plains? Many a song—aching to sing.
I've got a gray and ragged brother in my breast—that's a fact. Back of Chicago the open field—long trains go west too—in the silence. Don't fret, love. I'll come out all right.

A Love-Song

I purchased my love for money,
Else ne'er had I known its might;
No less did I sing to the gay harp-string
Right sweetly of love's delight.

A dream, though it soon be vanished,
Is sweet when it answers our will;
And Eden to him who is banished
Is beauteous Eden still.

Because

Because you come to me with naught save
love, And hold my hand and lift mine eyes above, A
wider world of hope and joy I see, Be-
cause you come to me.
Because you speak to me in accents
sweet, I find the roses waking round my feet, And
I am led through tears and joy to thee, Be-
cause you speak to me.
Because God made thee
mine, I'll cherish thee Through
light and darkness, through all time to be, And
pray His love may make our love divine, Be-
cause God made thee mine.

Love of Nature

I sigh not for rich Peru's buried ore,
Nor any part she has abundantly
Disgorged; nor power, nor state, nor pageantry;
Nor prize the wealth that heaps up Commerce' shore,
Nor that which rides her waves; nor the large store
Which Neptune has obtained too frequently
From the sunk travellers of the perilous sea;
Nor aught of that which makes rich misers poor.
Give all these life-bought nothings unto them.
Of whom they are ador'd; let them have gold
And silver in huge masses, and the gem
That would out-price the richest diadem—

The Little Good Fellows

Make way, make way, give leave to rove
Under your orchard as above;
A yearly welcome if ye love!
And all who loved us alway[s] throve.

Love for love. For ever we
When some unfriended man we see
Lifeless under forest-eaves,
Cover him with buds and leaves;
And charge the chipmunk, mouse, and mole—
Molest not this poor human soul!

Then let us never on green floor
Where your paths wind round about,
Keep to the middle in misdoubt,
Shy and aloof, unsure of ye;
But come like grass to stones on moor,
Wherever mortals be.