Dear Wanderer’€” The sky is gray, With flecks of blue The clouds rush over. A bird is singing

I love my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower, So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour. I love my life, but not too well.

FLOWER of the moon! Still white is her brow whom we wo… Yea, purer than pearls in deep sea… The dull years veil their eyes fro… Nor profane her with age—the immor…

She is so wee, So wise and dear Her eyes can see, Her ears can hear, The flowers that grow

What am I? I am Earth the mother… With all her nebulous memories; And the young Day, and Night her… And every god that was and is. As Eve I walked in paradise,

To the world-wanderer Samarkand i… The broad Pacific but a narrow st… To him old China at the Asian gat… A neighbor is, an elder brother de… Toward savage coasts he dares his…

Three crosses rose on Calvary aga… Each with its living burden, each… And all the ages watched there, an… One bore the God incarnate, revil… Who through the woe he suffered fo…

After the months of torpor, Weakness and ache and strain, After this day’s deep drowning In stormy seas of pain— To feel your hand, my baby,

They went down to the sea in ships… In ships they went down to the sea… In boats hewn of oak-tree strips, In galleys with skin-sewn sails, In triremes, caravels, brigs—

The cactus in the desert stands Like time’s inviolate sentinel, Watching the sun-washed waste of s… Lest they their ancient secrets te… And the lost lore of mournful land…

October I5th, 1910. My friend, dear friend, why should… Over the Babel of voices, suddenl… Calling as from the new world to t… Hush!—are you weary? would you fol…

Sleep softly in your ocean bed, You who could grandly die! Our fathers, who at Shiloh bled, Accept your company. O sons of warriors, lightly rest,

Prairie child, Brief as dew, What winds of wonder Nourished you? Rolling plains

Hiding under the hill, Heavy with trailing robes and tang… Till only its little haggard face… The garden lay shy and wistful, Lovelorn for summer departing,

Little brown surf-bather of the mo… Spirit of foam, lover of cataracts… Have you no fear of the roar and r… Nevada, the shapely dancer, feelin… How dare you dash at Yosemite the…