English

BOOK IV

" O FAIR young face, " a voice began aloof
When, dark, the Roamer woke, " how few there be
That pass this limit with such lips as thine,
An-hungered and athirst! " and nigh him rose
An old man's form against the doubtful sky.
Flowers of the desert held he in his hand,
Slight, grass-like spears that bore a bloom minute,
Whereof he seemed to proffer flower and stem.
" Take, eat, " he said, " the food the waste provides. "
The wondering Roamer pressed them to his lips,

BOOK III

" O Sleep , the kindest helper of the soul,
Who, when night comes, dost draw more nigh than night,
And when thou goest, bringest back the day!
O first, sweet silence 'twixt the solemn prayers
Of eve and morn, how many peaceful hours
My hands in thine were folded, when a child!
And thou wast dearer with each heavy year,
And tenderer for the sorrow come, more soft
My head didst pillow, gavest my soul release! "
So rose the Roamer's morning orison;
And never more refreshed from thee he turned

Book II

" Is the earth heavier for the corpse that lies,
Or lighter for the spirit flown away,
That she has fixed so deep the lust of life? "
The Roamer heard; and as from tides of night
Earth seemed emerging round him; the white moon
Lifted the low hills from the raven shade;
And like the eternal deluge petrified
In heaven-shouldering billows, the black Range
Bore up the snowy threshold of the stars;
His soul yet felt its dread, his heart its chill.
That one who had renewed his pain stood nigh

BOOK I

Harken , O outcast Race, to man outcast,
Into the desert driven in his youth
To lead, though mortal, the eternal life!
Once more know him, the child of earth gone forth,
In whom the spirit wakens uncontrolled,
Insatiate hope, unconquerable will!
Now over-seas he bears the human fates;
He opens mighty lands; he lieth down
In the waste places. Harken to his voice,
In this world's wilderness his living cry,
The soul of man, heard now in this new verse!
In me he is the passion perilous;

The intelligence running the streets. She ran after stupidity. They had leg holders towels passersby, who are duped of belief, dyspeptic ministers, teachers feel great person the son of their works, the lame to mediate knowledge, thinkers who repeat the evening meal , women of the world who believe only their caste, theater, the Virgin and ideas, all Zozos any adult Rose Library, all educated fools who run the world.

It was then that the incident occurred which made us know. I was there.

He said he had no time, he had his car door, a field kitchen crowded the whole day, its bloody night incubator eggs, ladies conquered by eating food negroes The trip from hell in the salt marsh of the day, the silence of the old house still asleep found every morning, the rattle of the concierge in the box, the start of an alarm clock behind a foreign carrier; its open room where the blind slat, life garden begins, and the flap of the day and bird necklaces down on his bed shortage; outfits dairy tinkle on the stairs, the earth out of its cocoon, the clocks are overwhelmed, the bells begin to

NOON .

Fervid on the glittering flood,
Now the noon-tide radiance glows:
Drooping o'er its infant bud,
Not a dew drop's left the rose.

By the brook the shepherd dines;
From the fierce meridian heat
Shelter'd, by the branching pines,
Pendent o'er his grassy seat.

Now the flock forsakes the glade,
Where, uncheck'd, the sun-beams fall;

MORNING .

I N the barn the tenant cock,
Close to partlet perch'd on high,
Briskly crows, (the shepherd's clock!)
Jocund that the morning's nigh.

Swiftly from the mountain's brow,
Shadows, nurs'd by night, retire:
And the peeping sun-beam, now
Paints with gold the village-spire.

Philomel forsakes the thorn,
Plamtive where she prates at night;

I.

A MIGHTY current, unconfin'd and free,
Ran wheeling round beneath the mountain's shade,
Battering its wave-worn base; but you might see
On the near margin many a watery glade,
Becalm'd beneath some little island's lee
All tranquil, and transparent, close embay'd;
Reflecting in the deep serene and even
Each flower and herb, and every cloud of Heaven;

II.

The painted kingfisher, the branch above her,