| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1591. The Heavens Are Our Riddle |
| | | By Herbert Bates |
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| THE HEAVENS are our riddle; and the sea, | |
| Forested earth, the grassy rustling plain, | |
| Snows, rains, and thunders. Yea, and even we | |
| Before ourselves stand ominous. In vain! | |
| The stars still march their way, the sea still rolls, | 5 |
| The forests wave, the plain drinks in the sun, | |
| And we stand silent, naked,—with tremulous, souls,— | |
| Before our unsolved selves. We pray to one | |
| Whose hand should help us. But we hear no voice; | |
| Skies clear and darken; the days pale and pass, | 10 |
| Nor any bids us weep or bids rejoice. | |
| Only the wind sobs in the shrivelling grass,— | |
| Only the wind,—and we with upward eyes | |
| Expectant of the silence of the skies. | |
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