Deep into the midst of a great, dark, wood,
Where shades are ever staying,
I found a snail, at the root of an oak,
One day, as I was maying;
And I said, " Oh stupid snail, so weak,
What moral high, canst thy poor life teach? "

And methought, the snail answered thus from his shell,
" Oh maid! list to my teaching;
Cautiously taking full time as I to,
I'm spared of over-reaching;
If you too, like me would take life more slow,
You truly would be benefited, I know. "

" And I leave a silver trace in the rear,

Deep in this grave her bones remain,
She's sleeping on, bereft of pain,
Her tongue in silence now does sleep,
And she no more time's call can greet.

She liv'd as all God's saints should do,
Resign'd to death and suffering too;
She feels not pain or sin oppress,
Nor does of worldly cares possess.

White were the locks that thinly shed
Their snows around her honor'd head,
And furrows not to be effac'd
Had age amid her features trac'd.

I said, my sister, DO tread light,
Faint as the stars that gleam at night,

Deep in the wave is a coral grove,
Where the purple mullet, and gold-fish rove,
Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue,
That never are wet with falling dew,
But in bright and changeful beauty shine,
Far down in the green and glassy brine.
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow;
From coral rocks the sea plants lift
Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow;
The water is calm and still below,
For the winds and waves are absent there,

Deep in the hill the gold sand burned;
The brook ran yellow with its gleams;
Close by, the seekers slept, and turned
And tossed in restless dreams.

At dawn they waked. In friendly cheer
Their dreams they told, by one, by one;
And each man laughed the dreams to hear,
But sighed when they were done.

Visions of golden birds that flew,
Of golden cloth piled fold on fold,
Of rain which shone, and filtered through
The air in showers of gold;

Visions of golden bells that rang,
Of golden chariots that rolled,

(At Booker Washington's grave)
Deep in Alabama earth
His buried body lies —
But higher than the singing pines
And taller than the skies
And out of Alabama earth
To all the world there goes
The truth a simple heart has held
And the strength a strong hand knows,
While over Alabama earth
These words are gently spoken:
Serve — and hate will die unborn.
Love — and chains are broken.

Deep in a vale where rocks on every side
Shut out the winds, and scarcely let the sun
Between them dart his rays down one by one,
Where all was still and cool in summer-tide,
And softly, with her whispering waves that sighed,
A little river, that had scarce begun
Her silver course, made bold to fleet and run
Down leafy falls to woodlands dense and wide,
There stood a tiny plain, just large enow
To give small mountain-folk right room to dance,
With oaks and limes and maples ringed around;
Hither I came, and viewed its turf askance,

Deep in a vale, a stranger now to arms,
Too poor to shine in courts, too proud to beg,
He, who once warred on Saratoga's plains,
Sits musing o'er his scars, and wooden leg.

Remembering still the toil of former days,
To other hands he sees his earnings paid;--
They share the due reward--he feeds on praise,
Lost in the abyss of want, misfortune's shade.

Far, far from domes where splendid tapers glare,
'Tis his from dear bought peace no wealth to win,
Removed alike from courtly cringing 'squires,

Deep in a distant bay, and deeply hidden,
There is an island far away from me
Which lulls the tumbling waves to dreamy quiet;
And there steep cliffs against the water's riot
Stand up, and to their shelter ships are bidden,
Where those curved arms shut in a tranquil sea.

The deep blue of the earth
tempted me, and I came.
It was an Arab house
dedicated by wind to eloquent silence.
I wished goodnight to the grasses of the garden,
then went away.

A woman awaits me.
She has fixed a spear at the threshold of the tent,
completed her beauty rituals, lain down
on the sands, and slept.
As I move toward her in the dream,
the star of the guest will see me
and follow my steps.

" Sir, oh Sir,
you who stealthily came to me in the dream,
spread out in my body —

Deem as ye list, upon good cause
I may or think of this or that:
But what or why myself best knows
Whereby I think and fear not.
But thereunto I may well think
The doubtful sentence of this clause:
I would it were not as I think,
I would I thought it were not.

For if I thought it were not so,
Though it were so it griev'd me not:
Unto my thought it were as though
I hearkened though I hear not.
At that I see I cannot wink,
Nor from my thought so let it go.
I would it were not as I think,
I would I thought it were not.