| |
| “I SEE the grass shake in the sun for leagues on either hand, | |
| I see a river loop and run about a treeless land— | |
| An empty plain, a steely pond, a distance diamond-clear, | |
| And low blue naked hills beyond. And what is that to fear?” | |
| |
| “Go softly by that river-side or, when you would depart, | 5 |
| You’ll find its every winding tied and knotted round your heart. | |
| Be wary as the seasons pass, or you may ne’er outrun | |
| The wind that sets that yellowed grass a-shiver ’neath the Sun.” | |
| |
| “I hear the summer storm outblown—the drip of the grateful wheat. | |
| I hear the hard trail telephone a far-off horse’s feet. | 10 |
| I hear the horns of Autumn blow to the wild-fowl overhead; | |
| And I hear the hush before the snow. And what is that to dread?” | |
| |
| “Take heed what spell the lightning weaves—what charm the echoes shape— | |
| Or, bound among a million sheaves, your soul shall not escape. | |
| Bar home the door of summer nights lest those high planets drown | 15 |
| The memory of near delights in all the longed-for town.” | |
| |
| “What need have I to long or fear? Now, friendly, I behold | |
| My faithful seasons robe the year in silver and in gold. | |
| Now I possess and am possessed of the land where I would be, | |
| And the curve of half Earth’s generous breast shall soothe and ravish me!” | 20 |
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