IN the wondrous star-sown night, In the first sweet warmth of sprin… I lie awake and listen To hear the glad earth sing. I hear the brook in the wood

THIS is a holy refuge, The garden of Saint Rose, A fragrant altar to that peace The world no longer knows. Below a solemn hillside,

I heard the spring wind whisper Above the brushwood fire, ‘The world is made forever Of transport and desire. ’I am the breath of being,

Said a traveller by the way Pausing, "What hast thou to say, Flower by the dusty road, That would ease a mortal’s load?" Traveller, hearken unto me!

I HEAR you, Brother, I hear you… Down in the alder swamp, Springing your woodland whistle To herald the April pomp! First of the moving vanguard,

HERE by the gray north sea, In the wintry heart of the wild, Comes the old dream of thee, Guendolen, mistress and child. The heart of the forest grieves

This was a leader of the sons of l… Of winsome cheer and strenuous com… Upon the veteran hordes of Bigot-… All day his vanguard spirit, flami… Bore up the brunt of unavailing fi…

OH, the shambling sea is a sexton… And well his work is done. With an equal grave for lord and k… He buries them every one. Then hoy and rip, with a rolling h…

WE are the roadside flowers, Straying from garden grounds,— Lovers of idle hours, Breakers of ordered bounds. If only the earth will feed us,

FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears

NOW is the time of year When all the flutes begin,— The redwing bold and clear, The rainbird far and thin. In all the waking lands

THE sleeping tarn is dark Below the wooded hill. Save for its homing sounds, The twilit world grows still. And I am left to muse

Soul, what art thou in the tribes… LORD, said a flying fish, Below the foundations of storm We feel the primal wish Of the earth take form.

SHIPMATE, leave the ghostly sh… Where thy boon companions throng! We will put to sea together Through the twilight with a song. Leering closer, rank and girding,

IN the day of battle, In the night of dread, Let one hymn be lifted, Let one prayer be said. Not for pride of conquest,