RHYMES TO BE TRADED FOR BREAD BEING NEW VERSES BY NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY, SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, JUNE, 1912. PRINTED EXPRESSLY AS A SV INSTITUTE FOR MONEY. THIS BOOK IS TO BE USED IN EXCHANGE FOR THE NECESSITIES OF LIFE ON A TRAMP- JOURNEY FROM THE AUTHOR'S HOME TOWN, THROUGH THE WEST AND BACK, DURING WHICH HE WILL OBSERVE THE FOLLOWING RULES: (1) KEEP AWAY FROM THE CITIES. (2) KEEP AWAY FROM THE RAILROADS. (3) HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH MONEY. CARRY NO BAGGAGE. (4) ASK FOR DINNER ABOUT QUARTER AFTER ELEVEN. (5) ASK FOR SUPPER, LODGING AND BREAKFAST ABOUT QUARTER OF FIVE. (6) TRAVEL ALONE. (7) BE NEAT, TRUTHFUL, CIVIL AND ON THE SQUARE. (8) PREACH THE GOSPEL OF BEAUTY. IN ORDER TO CARRY OUT THE LAST RULE THERE WILL BE THREE EXCEPTIONS TO THE RULE AGAINST BAGGAGE. (1) THE AUTHOR WILL CARRY A BRIEF PRINTED STATEMENT, CALLED "THE GOSPEL OF BEAUTY." (2) HE WILL CARRY THIS BOOK OF RHYMES FOR DISTRIBUTION. (3) ALSO HE WILL CARRY A SMALL PORTFOLIO WITH PICTURES, ETC., CHOSEN TO GIVE AN OUTLINE OF HIS VIEW OF THE HISTORY OF ART, ESPECIALLY AS IT APPLIES TO AMERICA. INTRODUCTION UPON RETURNING TO THE COUNTRY ROAD. EVEN THE SHREWD AND BITTER, GNARLED BY THE OLD WORLD'S GREED, CHERISHED THE STRANGER SOFTLY SEEING HIS UTTER NEED. SHELTER AND PATIENT HEARING, THESE WERE THEIR GIFTS TO HIM, TO THE MINSTREL GRIMLY BEGGING AS THE SUNSET-FIRE GREW DIM. THE RICH SAID "YOU ARE WELCOME." YEA, EVEN THE RICH WERE GOOD. HOW STRANGE THAT IN THEIR FEASTING HIS SONGS W T ERE UNDERSTOOD.' THE DOORS OF THE POOR WERE OPEN, THE POOR WHO HAD WANDERED TOO, WHO HAD SLEPT WITH NE'ER A ROOF-TREE UNDER THE WIND AND DEW. THE MINDS OF THE POOR WERE OPEN, THERE DARK MISTRUST WAS DEAD. THEY LOVED HIS \VIZARD STORIES, THEY BOUGHT HIS RHYMES WITH BREAD. THOSE WERE HIS DAYS OF GLORY, OF FAITH IN HIS FELLOW-MEN. THEREFORE, TODAY THE SINGER . . TURNS BEGGAR ONCE AGAIN. HE BLEW ME TO A WINDLAND BUSHJ WITH SPEED AND JOY WE FLEW. THE GREAT BUSH BLOOMED WITH PARCH MENTS FINE, OF SONGS THAT FEED THE SOUL, ALL NEW, THAT OUR DEAR EARTH SHALL HEAR, WHEN POETS REACH THEIB GOAL. WHEN OUR GROWN CHILDREN, BREATHING FIRE, SHALL JUSTIFY ALL TIME, BY HYMNS OF LIVING SILVER, SONGS WITH SUNRISE IN THE RHYME. I WISH THAT I HAD LEARNED BY HEART SOME LYRICS READ THAT DAY, I KNEW NOT 'TWAS A GIANT HOUR. AND SPENT IT ALL IN PLAY. WINDLAND GLEAMS SO DEWY-WHITE, SO FULL OF CRYSTAL PEACE, AND EVERY LEAF A SILKEN HARP, WHOSE MURMURS WILL NOT CEASE. I GORGED THE HONEY FROM THE CUPS OF WILD-FLOWERS ALL ABOUT, LAUGHING WHEN THE WIZARD LAUGHED, AND PUT THE GNATS TO ROUT. I READ ONCE MORE, THEN SLEPT AWHILE, THEN WOKE ON EARTH AGAIN, I WISH THOSE SCROLLS WERE MINE THAT I MIGHT BRING THEM UNTO MEN! VERSES OF FANTASY AND DESIRE THE WIZARD WIND. THE WIZARD WIND'S A FRIEND OF MINE, MOST INTIMATE, IN TRUTH, HE WHISTLES SORROW HALF AWAY, HE GIVES ME GOLDEN YOUTH. AND FREE AS THAT SMALL BIRD THAT EATS THE WHEAT-EAR IN THE SHEAF I AM NO LONGER MAN, BUT CLOUD, OR TUMBLED MAPLE-LEAF. ONCE HE TRANSFOKMED ME TO A BEE, HUNGRY FOR HONEY-DEW, THE KING OF YELLOW BUTTER FLIES. (EARLY SPRING.) THE KING OF YELLOW BUTTERFLIES NOW ORDERS FORTH HIS MEN, ME SAYS, "THE TIME is ALMOST HERE WHEN TIOJLETS BLOOM AGAIN." ADOWN THE ROAD THE FICKLE ROUT GOES FLASHING PROUD AND BOLD, THEY SHIVER BY THE SHALLOW POOLS AND WHIMPER OF THE COLD. THEY DRINK AND DRINK. 'TIS A PRE TENCE. THEY LOVE TO POSE AND PREEN, EACH POOL IS BUT A LOOKING-GLASS WHERE THEIB SWEET WINGS ABE SEEN. THEY'RE GENTLEMEN ADVENTURERS, THEY'RE GIPSIES EVERY WHIT, THEY LIVE ON WHAT THEY STEAL. THEIR WINGS BY BRLABS ARE FRAYED A BIT. THEIR LOVES ARE LIGHT. THEY HAVE NO HOUSE. AND IF IT RAINS TODAY THEY'LL CLIMB INTO YOUR CATTLE-SHED, AND HIDE THEM IN THE HAY. THE GRAVE OF THE RIGHTEOUS KITTEN. HEBE LIES A KITTEN GOOD, WHO KEPT A KITTEN'S PROPER PLACE. HE STOLE NO PANTRY EATABLES, NOR SCRATCHED THE BABY'S FACE. HE LET THE ALLEY-CATS ALONE, HE HAD NO YOWLING VICE. HIS SHIRT WAS ALWAYS LAUNDRIED WELL, HE FREED THE HOUSE OF MICE. UNTIL HIS DEATH HE HAD NOT CAUSED HIS LITTLE MISTRESS TEARS, HE WORE HIS RIBBON PRETTILY, HE WASHED BEHIND HIS EARS. AN INDIAN SUMMER DAY ON THE PRAIRIE. (IN THE BEGINNING.) THE SUN IS A HUNTRESS YOUNG, THE SUN IS A RED, RED JOY, THE SUN IS AN INDIAN GIRL, OF THE TRIBE OF THE ILLINOIS. (MID-MORNING.) THE SUN IS A SMOULDERING FIRE, THAT CREEPS THROUGH THE HIGH GREY PLAIN AND LEAVES NOT A BUSH OF CLOUD TO BLOSSOM WITH FLOWERS OF RAIN. (NOON.) THE SUN IS A WOUNDED DEER, THAT TREADS PALE GRASS IX THE SKIES. SHAKING HIS GOLDEN HORNS, FLASHING HIS BALEFUL EYES. (SUNSET.) THE Sl'X IS AN EAGLE OLD, THERE IN "THE WINDLESS WEST ATOP OF THE SPIRIT-CLIFFS HE BUILDS HIM A CRIMSON NEST. WHY I FLED FROM DUTY. I HAVE LOST YOU, LITTLE MISS DUTY. I TOI.D YOU MY I.CST AND LOVE, LUST LIKE THE PULSE OF THE TIGER THE HUNGER OF HAWK FOR DOVE. I HAVE LOST YOU, LITTLE MISS DUTY, THOUMI I HROn.HT YOU MYSELF QUITE WHOLE, WHITE BODY AND BLACK DESIRE CONSCIENCE, AND BREATH, AND SOUL. "YOU ARE NAKED," SAID LITTLE MISS DUTY, "<,o HIDE IN Till-. ( AVES AND HILLS, FOR I MUST BE GILDING COBWEBS, I AM CHAINED IN THE COBWEB MILLS. MY SILK BUYS BREAD AND BUTTER AND PAYS MY DEBT ON THE FARM." SO I STOLE HER SHOE FOR REMEMBERANCE : AND FLED LEST I DO HER HARM. MACHINERY. OH, EGYPT QUEEN OF EGYPT WHEN I WAS KING OF BIRDS YOU CALLED ME FROM THE TREETOPS WITH MYSTIC COPTIC WORDS. YOU WHISTLED AND YOU WHISPERED, THEN MOCKED ME, FICKLE QUEEN. YOU SAID TO AIL MY SOUL TALK. 1 "A BIRD IS A MACHINE." YOUR TRIBE WAS OLD IN SCIENCE-, YOU SAID TO ME "YOUR WINGS ABE RODS AND STRINGS AND HINGES ; THE PLACE IN YOU THAT SINGS. "IS A TINY WILLOW WHISTLE, QUITE WELL DEVISED, BUT STILL A SISTRUM MAKES MORE MUSIC: A FEATHER'S BUT A QUILL; "A CLAW IS BUT A NEEDLE: A CRAW, A MILL FOB CORN; YOUR HEART IS BUT A LITTLE PUMP, YOUR SOUL WAS NEVER BORN." BUT THEN, I SANG SO DESPERATELY .... I MADE FAIR EGYPT SIGH: "OH DOWNY SOUL IMMORTAL! OH BIRD THAT CANNOT DIE!" LOVE AND LAW. TRUE LOVE IS FOUNDED IN ROCKS OF RE MEMBER ANCE, IN STONES OF FORBEARANCE AND MORTAR OF PAIN. THE WORKMAN LAYS WEARILY GRANITE ON GRANITE, AND BLEEDS FOR HIS CASTLE 'MID SUN SHINE AND RAIN. LOVE IS NOT VELVET, NOT ALL OF IT VEL VET, NOT ALL OF IT BANNERS, NOT GOLD-LEAF ALONE. 'TIS STERN AS THE AGES, AND OLD AS RELIGION, WITH PATTEN <-E ITS WATCHWORD AND I AW FOR ITS THRONE. THE FLIGHT OF MONA LISA. UEIXG THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE STEALING OF LEONARDO DA VINCl'S MAS- il.lMMElj: FKO.M THE GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE. ALWAYS KNTTIKONKD, AND EVER WISE AND STILL * * * KIVERS OF STARING. STRENUOUS FOLK \VE.\T I IV. ONLY I IIK WISE AND RIPE OF SOUL WOULD PAUSE, MARKING THE SHADOWED MAGIC OF YOUR EVE * * * NOW MOIJS UNDO VOUK NAME WITH CLACKING TONGUE. TOO DULL TO KNOW THE LADY THAT YOU ARE, IGNORANT OF THE RENAISSANCE SO SWEET OF WHICH YOU WERE THE CULMINATING STAR CROWDS, TO WHOM BEAUTY IS A HIDDEN BOOK THOUGH THEY GO SEEK IT TILL THEIR EYES ARE RED; MEX TO WHOM LEONARDO IS UNKNOWN OR BUT A DUSTY FAME, A LONG TIME DEAD: THESE SAY THAT YOU WERE COURTED BY A THIEF, NAY, RATHER,. AFTER HALF A THOUSAND YEARS, YOUR SMILE TOOK ON AN UNEXPECTED BLOOM, DESIRE AROSE THAT MOVED YOU NIGH TO TEARS. YOU FLASHED THAT PRINCESS-GLANCE THAT WAS COMMAND "CARRY ME WITH YOU YOUTH, i LEAVE THIS PLACE. I GROW LOVE-HUNGRY 'MID THE CEN TURIES, YOURS IS THE DESTINED, FLUSHED ADOR ING FACE!" AH, WHAT A BEAUTEOUS, WICKED THING IT WAS, THIS RECKLESS HOPE OF YOURS THAT STUNG HIM SO TILL, SCORNING YOUR FAIR PALACE AND YOUR GUARD, HE HALED YOU TO SOME LONELY PLACE AGLOW. WHY DID THIS SUDDEN THIRST OF YOURS AWAKE? CAN FEVER MUTINY IN VEINS SO OLD? WHAT, IN HIS GESTURE TAMED YOUR SPIRIT HIGH? WHAT, IN HIS FIGURE MADE YOUR GLANCES BOLD? TILL, DAY BY DAY YOUR LONG LOOK WITCHING HIM, HIS FLAGGING PULSES KINDLED TO SPICED FIRE, AND REACHED AT LAST THE RENAISSANCE SUPREME ATTAINED THE HEIGHT OF FLORENTINE DESIRE? i KNOW 'TWAS LEONARDO COME TO EARTH IN MASQUERADING FANCY DRESSED SO GAY. TRANSFORMED INTO A CARELESS ARTIST- BOY, A LOAFING STUDENT WASTING OUT THE DAY. AH, GROWN SO WEARY OF HIGH HEAVEN'S STREETS ! AND OF THE GLITTERING SAINTS TOO- RIGHTEOUS GRACE! WEARY OF GODLY SUNSHINE WITHOUT END! SEEKING AGAIN THE SHADOWS OF YOUR FACE! YOU DID NOT KNOW HIM FOR HIMSELF UNTIL YOU FLED, WITHIN HIS ARMS. ADOWN THE STAIR, THEN, (AND YOU SAW THE GLEAMING PAUIS STREKT), HE STOOD A GREY WISE MAN BESIDE YOU THERE. A WANDERING JEW, TO YOU HIS HEART'S OLD HOME, HE CAME, AND GAVE YOUR SOUL AT LAST SURPRISE, HE STRANGELY BROUGHT A CHILD-ASTON ISHMENT, A NOBLE MAIDEN-WONDER TO YOUR EYES. HE RAVISHED YOU AWAY TO HEAVEN WITH HIM, STILL YEARNING FOR YOUR BITTER KISS AGAIN YOUR BITTER, GENTLE, DOVE-LIKE WEARI NESS, AND FOLLIES GARNERED 'MID THE SONS OF MEN. AN APOLOGY FOR THE BOTTLE VOLCANIC. SOMETIMES I DIP MY PEN AND FIND THE BOTTLE FULL OF FIRE, THE SALAMANDERS FLYING FORTH I CAN NOT BUT ADMIRE. ITS ETNA, OR VESUVIUS, IF THOSE BIG THINGS WERE SMALL, AND THEN 'TIS BUT ITSELF AGAIN, AND DOES NOT SMOKE AT ALL. AND SO MY BLOOD GROWS COLD. I SAY, "THE BOTTLE HELD BUT INK, AND, IF YOU THOUGHT IT OTHERWISE, THE WORSER FOR YOUR THINK.." AND THEN, JUST AS I THROW MY SCRIB BLED PAPER ON THE FLOOR THE BOTTLE SAYS "FE, FI, FO, FUM," AND STEAMS AND SHOUTS SOME MORE. OH, SAD DECEIVING INK, AS BAD AS LIQUOR IN ITS WAY ALL DEMONS OF A BOTTLE SIZE HAVE PRANCED FROM YOU TODAY, AND SEIZED MY PEN FOR HOBBY-HORSE AS WITCHES RIDE A BROOM, AND LEFT A TRAIL OF BRIMSTONE WORDS AND BLOTS AND GOBS OF GLOOM. AND YET WHEN I AM EXTRA GOOD AND SAY MY PRAYERS AT NIGHT, AND MIND MY MA, AND DO THE CHORES, AND SPEAK TO FOLKS POLITE, MY BOTTLE SPREADS A RAINBOW-MIST, AND FROM THE VAPOR FINE TEX THOUSAND TROOPS FROM FAIRYLAND COME RIDING IN A LINE. I'VE SEEN THEM ON THEIR CHARGERS RACE AROUND MY STUDY CHAIR, THEY OPENED WIDE THE WINDOW AND RODE FORTH UPON THE AIR. THE ARMY WIDENED AS IT WENT, AND INTO MYRIADS GREW, OH, HOW THE LANCES SHIMMERED, HOW THE SILVERY TRUMPETS BLEW! THE MAGICAL VILLAGE THE PATIENT WITCH. A LADY CALLED THE PATIENT WITCH, LIVED NEAR US LONG AGO. l K SERVANTS GAVE HEB OFF AND ON A BIT OF COIN OR SO, TO TELL THEM WHAT THEIR DREAMS COULD MEAN, AND IF THEIR LOVES WERE TRUEj TO STUDY OUT THEIR PALMS AND SAY "A PALACE WAITS FOR YOU/' AND THEN SHE ALWAYS WAS POLITE, AND SAID, "HOW DO YOU FARE? I HOPE YOUR LITTLE GIRL IS WELL," WITH A MOST PLEASANT AIR. SHE MUMBLED MUCH, WE KNEW NOT WHAT EACH AFTERNOON WOULD WAIT BESIDE THE GUIDE-POST TO THE WEST FOR SOME EXALTED FATE. SHE LOOKED DOWN EVERY ROAD AS THOUGH A STATELY COACH WAS DUE, TO BEAR HER HOME TO SOMEWHERE ELSE, TO FOLKS SHE REALLY KNEW. "ONE EVENING," SAID A LITTLE BOY, THE ONLY ONE A NIGH, "SHE TOLD ME PRETTY STORIES, AND SHE KISSED MY CURLS GOODBY, AND TURNED INTO A SWAN AND SPREAD HER WHITE WINGS BIG AND WIDE. AND FLEW AND FLEW INTO THE SKY! AND I CAME HOME AND CRIED." EDEN IN WINTER. SUPPOSED TO BE CHANTED TO SOME RUDE INSTRUMENT AT A MODERN FIRE PLACE. CHANT WE THE STORY NOW THOUGH IN A HOUSE WE SLEEP. THOUGH BY A HEARTH OF COALS VIGIL TONIGHT WE KEEP. CHANT WE THE STORY NOW, OF THE VAGUE LOVE WE KNEW WHEN I FROM OUT THE SEA ROSE TO THE FEET OF YOU. BIRD FROM THE CLIFFS YOU CA1MK FLEW THROUGH THE SNOW TO M K. FACING THE ICY BLAST THERE BY THE ICY SEA. HOW DID I REACH YOUR FEET? WHY SHOULD I AT THE END HOLD OUT HALF FROZEN HANDS DUMBLY TO YOU MY FRIEND? NE'ER HAD i WOMAN SEEN, NE'ER HAD i SEEN A FLAME. THERE YOU PILED FAGOTS ON HEAT ROSE THE BLAST TO TAME. THERE BY THE CAVE-DOOR DARK COMFORTING ME YOU CRIED WAILED O'ER MY WOUNDED KNEE WEPT FOR MY ROCK-TORN SIDK. UP FROM THE SOUTH I TRAILED LEFT REGIONS FIERCE AND FAIR! LEFT ALL THE JUNGLE-TREES F.KIT THE RED TIGER'S LAIR. HREAM LEI), 1 SCARCE KNEW WHY, INTO YOUR NORTH I TROD NE'ER HAD 1 KNOWN THE SNOW. OR THE FROST-BLASTED SOD. OH HOW THE FLAKES CAME DOWN! OH HOW THE FIRE BURNED HIGH! .STRANGE THING TO SEE HE WAS THROUGH HIS DRY TWIGS WOULD FLY. CREEP THERE AWHILE AND SLEEP THEN WAKE AND BARK FOR FIGHT BITING IF I TOO NEAR, CAME TO HIS EYE SO BRIGHT. THEN WITH A WILL YOU FED WOOD TO HIS HUNGRY TONGUE. THEN HE DID LEAP AND SING DANCING THE CLOUDS AMONG. TURNING THE NIGHT TO NOON, STINGING MY EYES WITH LIGHT, MAKING THE SNOW RETREAT, MAKING THE CAVE-HOUSE BRIGHT. THERE WERE DRY FAGOTS PILED, NUTS AND DRY LEAVES AND ROOTS. STORES THERE OF FURS AND HIDES. SWEET-BARKS AND GRAINS AND FRUITS. THERE WRAPPED IN FUR WE LAY' HALF-BURNED, HALF-FROZEN STILL NE'ER WILL MY SOUL FORGET ALL THE NIGHT'S BITTER CHILL. WE HAD NOT LEARNED TO SPEAK I WAS TO YOU A STRANGE WOLFLING OR WOUNDED FAWN LOST FROM HIS FOREST-RANGE. THIRSTING FOR BLOODY MEAT OUT AT THE DAWN WE WENT, WEIGHED WITH OUR PREY AT EVE. HOME-CAME WE ALL FORESPENT. COMRADES AND HUNTERS TRIED ERE WE WERE MAID AND MAN NOT TILL THE SPRING AWOKE LAUGHTER AND SPEECH BEGAN. WHINING LIKE FOREST DOGS, RUSTLING LIKE BUDDING TREES, BUBBLING LIKE THAWING SPRINGS. HUMMING LIKE LITTLE BEES, CROONING LIKE MAYTIME TIDES, CHATTERING PARROT WORDS, CRYING THE PANTHER'S CRY, CHIRPING LIKE MATING BIRDS THUS, THUS, WE LEARNED TO SPEAK, WHO, 'MID THE SNOWS WERE DUMB, NOR DID WE LEARN TO KISS UNTIL THE SPRIN(i HAD COME. THE TOWER BUILDER. IN AN IMPERIAL HOUR WITH COUNTENANCE BENK;N. VENUS THE HOLY CAME AND LAID KIND HANDS IN MINE. HANDS I CANNOT FORGET. NEVER A WORD SHE SPOKE, SHE GAVE HER FINGER-TIPS AND MY DEAD SOUL AWOKE. I LEARNED WHY STRO.Nd \1K.N TOIL. AND WHY BRIGHT CITIES RISE. I HARDLY TOUCHED HER HAIR, AND SCARCELY SAW HER EYES. THOUGH SHE IS GONE I BUILD BY HER STRONG HANDS ALL DAY. I HAVE THE KEY TO LIFE A POWER WORDS CANNOT SAY. QUEEN MAB IN THE VILLAGE. OH, ONCE I LOVED A FAIRY, QUEEN MAB IT WAS. HER VOICE WAS LIKE A LITTLE FOUNTAIN THAT BIDS THE BIRDS REJOICE. HER FACE WAS WISE AND SOLEMN, HER HAIR WAS BROWN AND FINE. HER DRESS WAS PANSY VELVET, A BUTTERFLY DESIGN. TO SEE HER HOVER ROUND ME OR WALK THE HILLS OF AIR, AWAKENED LOVE'S DEEP PULSES AND BOYHOOD'S FIRST DESPAIR; A PASSION LIKE A SWORD-BLADE THAT PIERCED ME THROUGH AND THROUGH, HER FINGERS HEALED THE SORROW HER WHISPER WOULD RENEW. WE SIGHED AND REIGNED AND FEASTED WITHIN A HOLLOW TREE, WE VOWED OUR LOVE WAS BOUNDLESS ETERNAL AS THE SEA. SHE BANISHED FROM HER KINGDOM THE MORTAL BOY I GREW SO TALL AND CRUDE AND NOISY, I KILLED GRASSHOPPERS TOO. I THREW BIG ROCKS AT PIGEONS, I PLUCKED AND TORE APART THE WEEPING, WAILING DAISIES, AND BROKE MY LADY'S HEART. AT LENGTH I GREW TO MANHOOD, I SCARCELY COULD BELIEVE, I EVER LOVED THE LADY, OB CAUSED HER COURT TO GRIEVE, UNTIL A DREAM CAME TO ME ONE BLEAK FIRST NIGHT OF SPRING 'ERE TIDES OF APPLE BLOSSOMS ROLLED IN O'ER EVERYTHING, WHILE RAIN AND SLEET AND SN'OWBANKS WERE STILL A VEXING MEN, 'ERE ROBIN AND HIS COMRADES WERE NESTING ONCE AGAIN. i SAW MAB'S BOOK OF JUDGMENT ITS CLASPS WERE IRON AND STONE, ITS LEAVES WERE MAMMOTH IVORY, ITS BOARDS WERE MAMMOTH BONE, HID IN HER SEASIDE MOUNTAINS, FORGOTTEN OR UNKEPT, BENEATH ITS MIGHTY COVERS HER WRATH AGAINST ME SLEPT. AND DEEPLY I REPENTED OF BRASH AND BOYISH CRIME, OF MURDER OF THINGS LOVELY NOW AND IN OLDEN TIME. I CURSED MY VAIN AMBITION, MY WOULD-BE WORLDLY DAYS, AND CRAVED THE PATHS OF WONDER, OF DEWY DAWNS AND FAYS. I CRIED, "OUR LOVE WAS BOUNDLESS ETERNAL AS THE SEA, OH, QUEEN, REVERSE THE SENTENCE, COME BACK AND MASTER ME!" THE ROOK WAS BY THE CLIFF-SIDE UPON ITS EDGE UPRIGHT. I LAID ME BY IT SOFTLY, AND WEPT THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT. AND THERE AT DAWN I SAW IT, NO BOOK NOW BUT A DOOR, UPON ITS PANELS WRITTEN "JUDGMENT is NO MORE." THE BOLT FLEW BACK WITH THUNDER, I SAW WITHIN THAT PLACE A MERMAID WRAPPED IN SEAWEED WITH MAB'S IMMORTAL FACE. YET GROWN NOW TO A WOMAN, A WOMAN TO THE KNEE. SHE CRIED, SHE CLASPED ME FONDLY, WE SOON WERE IN THE SEA. AH, SHE WAS WISE AND SUBTF.I . AND GAY AND STRONG AND SLKKK. WE CHAINED THE WICKED SWORD-FISH, WE PLAYED AT HIDE AND SEEK. WE FLOATED ON THE WATER, WE HEARD THE DAWN-WIND SING. I MADE FROM OCEAN-WONDERS HER BRIDAL WREATH AND RING. ALL MORTAL GIRLS WERE SHADOWS, ALL EARTH-LIFE BUT A MIST, WHEN DEEP BENEATH THE MAELSTROM, THE MERMAID'S HEART i KISSED. I WOKE BESIDE THE CHURCH-DOOR OF OUR SMALL INLAND TOWN, BOWING TO A MAIDEN IN A PANSY-VELVET GOWN, WHO HAD NOT HEARD OF FAIRIES, YET SEEMED OF LOVE TO DREAM. WE PLANNED AN EARTHLY COTTAGE BESIDE AN EARTHLY STREAM. OUR WEDDING LONG IS OVER, WITH TOIL THE YEARS FILL UP, YET IN THE EVENING SILENCE, WE DRINK A DEEP-SEA CUP. NOTHING THE FAY REMEMBERS, YET WHEN SHE TURNS TO ME, WE MEET BENEATH THE WHIRLPOOL, WE SWIM THE GOLDEN SEA. THE MASTER OF THE DANCE. A MASTER DEEP-EYED ERE HIS MANHOOD WAS RIPE, HE SANG LIKE A THRUSH, HE COULD PLAY ANY PIPE. SO DULL IN THE SCHOOL THAT HE SCARCELY COULD SPELL, HE READ BUT A BIT, AND HE FIGURED NOT WELL. A BARE-FOOTED FOOL, SHOD ONLY WITH GRACEJ LONG HAIR STREAMING DOWN ROUND A WIND-HARDENED FACE; HE SMILED LIKE A GIRL, OR LIKE CLEAR WINTER SKIES, A VIRGINAL LIGHT MAKING STARS OF HIS EYES. IN SWIFTNESS AND POISE, A PROUD CHILD OF THE DEER, A WHITE FAWN HE WAS. YET A FAWN WITHOUT FEAR. NO YOUTH THOUGHT HIM VAIN, OR MADE MOCK OF HIS HAIR, OR LAUGHED WHEN HIS WAYS WERE MOST CURIOUSLY FAIR. A MASTIFF AT FIGHT HE COULD STRIKE TO THE EARTH THE ENVIOUS ONE WHO WOULD CHALLENGE HIS WORTH. HOWEVER WE BOWED TO THE SCHOOLMASTER MILD, OUR SPIRITS WENT OUT TO THE FAWN-FOOTED CHILD. HIS BECKONING LED OUR TROOP INTO THE BRUSH. WE FOUND NOTHING THERE BUT A WIND AND A HUSH. HE SAT BY A STONE AND HE LOOKED ON THE GROUND, AS JF IN THE WEEDS THERE WAS SOMETHING PROFOUND. HIS PIPE SEEMED TO NEIGH, THEN TO BLEAT LIKE A SHEEP, THEN SOUND LIKE A STREAM OR A WATERFALL DEEP. IT WHISPERED STRANGE TALES, HUMAN WORDS IT SPOKE NOT. TOLD FAIR THINGS TO COME, AND OUR MARVELOUS LOT IF NOW WITH. FAWN-STEPS UNSHOD WE ADVANCED TO THE MIDST OF THE GROVE AND IN REVERENCE DANCED. WE OBEYED AS HE PIPED SOFT GRASS TO YOUNG FEET, WAS A MEDICINE MIGHTY, A REMEDY MEET. OUR THIN BLOOD AWOKE, IT GREW DIZZY AND WILD, THOUGH SCARCELY A WORD MOVED THE LIPS OF A CHILD. OUB DANCE GAVE ALLEGIANCE, IT SET US APART, WE TRIPPED A STRANGE MEASURE, UPLIFTED OF HEART. II WE THOUGHT TO BE PROUD OF OUR FAWN EVERYWHERE. WE COULD HARDLY SEE HOW SIMPLE BOOKS WERE A CARE. NO RULE OF THE SCHOOL THIS STRANGE STUDENT COULD TAME. HE WAS BANISHED ONE DAY, WHILE WE QUIVERED WITH SHAME. HE PIPED BACK OUR LOVE ON A MOON-SILVERED NIGHT, ENTICED US ONCE MORE TO THE PLACE OF DELIGHT. A GREETING H6 SANG AND IT MADE OUR BLOOD BEAT, IT TRAMPED UPON CUSTOM AND MOCKED AT DEFEAT. HE BUILDED A FIRE AND 'WE TRIPPED IN A KING, THE EMBERS OUR BOOKS AND THE FAWN OUR GOOD KING. AND NOW WE APPROACHED ALL THE MYSTERIES RARE THAT SHADOWED HIS EYELIDS AND BLEW THROUGH HIS HAIR. THAT SPELL NOW WAS PEACE THE DEEP STRENGTH OF THE TREES, THE CHILDREN OF NATURE WK CLAMBERED HER KNEES, OUR BREATH AND OUR MOODS WERE IN TUNE WITH HER OWN, TREMENDOUS HER PRESENCE ETERNAL HER THRONE. THE OSTRACISED CHILD OUR WHITE FOREHEADS KISSED, OUR BODIES AND SOULS BECAME LIGHTER THAN MIST. SWEET DRESSES LIKE SNOW OUR SMALL LADY-LOVES WORE, LIKE MOONLIGHT THE THOUGHTS THAT OUR BOSOMS UPBORE, LIKE A LILY THE TOUCH OF EACH COLD LITTLE HAND, THE LOVES OF THE STARS WE COULD NOW UNDERSTAND. O QUIVERING AIR! O THE CRYSTALLINE NIGHT! O PAUSES OF AWE AND THE FACES SWAN-WHITE! O FERNS IN THE DUSK! FOREST-SHRINED HOUR! O EARTH THAT SENT UP THE VAST THRILL AND THE POWEH. TO LIFT US LIKE LEAVES A DELIRIOUS WHIRL THE MASTERFUL BOY AND THE DELICATE GIRL! WHAT CHILD THAT STRANGE NIGHT-TIME CAN EVER FORGET? HIS FEALTY DUE AND HIS -INFINITE DEBT TO THE FOLLY DIVINE,' TO THE EXQUISITE RULE OF THE PERILOUS MASTER THE FAWN-FOOTED FOOL? Ill NOW SOLDIERS WE SEEM, AND NIGHT BRINGS A NEW THING A TERRIBLE IRE AS OF THUNDER AWING. A WARRIOR POWER, THAT OLD CHIVALRY STIRRED, WHEN KNIGHTS TOOK UP ARMS. AS THE MAIDENS GAVE WORD. THE END OF OUR WAR, WILL BE WHITE-BANNERED DAYS, WHEN THE TOWN LIKE A GREAT BUDDING ROSE SHALL UPRAISE! NEAR, NEARER, THAT AVAR, AND THAT ECSTACY COMES, WE HEAR THE TREES BEATING INVISIBLE DRUMS. THE FIELDS OF THE NIGHT ARE STARLIGHTED ABOVE, OUR GIRLS ARE WHITE TORCHES OF CONQUEST AND LOVE. NO NERVE WITHOUT WILL, AND NO BREAST WITHOUT BREATH, WE WHIRL WITH THE PLANETS THAT NEVER KNOW DEATH! THE DANDELION. DANDELION, RICH AND HAUGHTY, KING OF VILLAGE FLOWERS ! EACH DAY IS CORONATION TIME, YOU HAVE NO HUMBLE HOURS. 1 LIKE TO SEE YOU BRING A TROOP TO BEAT THE BLUE-GRASS SPEARS, TO SCORN THE LAWN-MOWER THAT WOULD BE LIKE FATE'S TRIUMPHANT SHEARS. YOUR YELLOW HEADS ARE CUT AWAY, IT SEEMS YOUR REIGN IS O'ER. BY NOON YOU RAISE A SEA OF STARS MORE GOLDEN THAN BEFORE. THE LAMP IN THE WINDOW. I LIGHT MY HOMELY LAMP AGAIN TO NIGHT, AND SAY" PERHAPS A WANDERING ONE GOES BY, HURRIED PAST DOOR-WAYS WHERE THE WATCH-DOGS GROWL THE HEARTHS THE STRANGER DARES NOT COME ANIGH. WE SIT IN STOLID CIRCLE AT THE BOARD, AND NEVER A SON OR DAUGHTER TELLS A TALE. THE FAITHFUL MOTHER FINDS NO CHEER IN TOIL, OUR ROSY INFANT'S CROW CAN NAUGHT AVAIL. THE COUNTRYSIDE GROWS DULL WITH HOMES UNSTIRRED, THE PREACHER PRATES IN LONG-FAMILIAR WORDS. THE NEIGHBORS COME, WITH WOODEN EYES, TO TALK OF WEEDS AND FEXCES, BARNS AND FLOCKS AND HERDS. PERHAPS TONIGHT WITHIN THE SOAKING RAIN SOME STORM-BLOWN BOY MOVES ON THAT WE SHOULD KEEP, TO BRING US LAUGHTER ROUND OUR ROAR ING STOVE, TO SHOW US WHY WE SOW AND WHY WE REAP. TONIGHT, PERCHANCE, A CONQUERING ONE RETURNS, MASTER OF WEARINESS AND FATE AND PAIN WITHIN HIS POCKET NOTE-BOOKS OF HIS LORE, WITHIN HIS SOUL GREAT PASSIONS HELD IN REIN. PERHAPS, TONIGHT SOME WILD MAN PASSES BY, BEARING WISE PARCHMENTS FROM OLD CITIES GRIM, OR, IT MAY BE, A BETTER LAMP THAN MINE MORE LIKE ALADDIN'S, NOT, LIKE THIS ONE, DIM. ALL IT WILL NEED, THE OIL AND WICK AND FLAME, AND SHELTERED ROOM TO KEEP THE WIND AWAY I (AN PROVIDE. AH, IF A LAMP HE BRINGS, IT SHALL BE TRIMMED AND BURNISHED EVERY DAY! THE HEARTH ETERNAL. THERE DWELT A WIDOW LEANED AND DE VOUT, BEHIND OUR HAMLET ON THE EASTERN HILL. THREE SONS SHE HAD, WHO WENT TO FIND THE WORLD, THEY PROMISED TO RETURN, BUT WAND ERED STILL. THE CITIES USED THEM WELL, THEY WON THEIR WAY, RICH GIFTS THEY SENT, TO STILL THEIR MOTHER'S SIGHS, WORN OUT WITH HONORS, AND APART FROM HER, T1IKY DIED AS MANY A SELF-MADE EXILE DIES. THE MOTHER HAD A HEARTH THAT WOULD NOT QUENCH, THE DEATHLESS EMBERS FOUGHT THE CREEPING GLOOM, SHE SAID TO US WHO CAM WITH WONDERING EYES "THIS IS A MAGIC FIRE, A MAGIC ROOM." THE PINE BURNED OUT, BUT STILL THE COALS GLOWED ON, HER GRAVE GREW OLD BENEATH THE PEAR- TREE SHADE, AND YET HER CRUMBLING HOME EN SHRINED THE LIGHT, THE NEIGHBORS PEERING IN WERE HALF- AFRAID. THEN STURDY BEGGARS, NEEDING FAGOTS CAME, ONE AT A TIME, AND STOLE THE WALLS, AND FLOOR. THEY LEFT A NAKED STONE, BUT HOW IT BLAZED ! AND IN THE THUNDERSTORM IT FLARED THE MORE. AND NOW IT WAS THAT MEN WERE HEARD TO SAY, "THIS LIGHT SHOULD BE BELOVED BY ALL THE TOWN." AT LAST THEY MADE THE SLOPE A PLACE OF PRAYER, WHERE MARVELOUS THOUGHTS FROM GOD CAME SWEEPING DOWN. THEY LEFT THEIR CHURCHES CRUMBLING IN THE SUN, THEY MET ON THAT SOFT HILL. ONE BROTHERHOOD; ONE STRENGTH AXD VALOR ONLY, ONE DE LIGHT, ONE LAUGHING, BROODING GENIUS, GREAT AND GOOD. NOW MANY GKEY-HAIRE1) PRODIGALS COME HOME, THE PLACE OUT-FLAMES THE CITIES OF THE LAND, AND TWICE-BORN BRAHMANS REACH US FROM ATAR, WITH SUBTLE EYES PREPARED TO UNDER STAND. HIGHER AND HIGHER BURNS THE EASTERN SHOWING THE ROADS THAT MARCH FROM EVERYPLACE, A STEADY BEACON O'ER THE WEARY LEAGUES, AT DEAD OF NIGHT IT LIGHTS THE TRAV ELLER'S FACE! THUS HAS THE WIDOW CONQUERED HALF THE EARTH, SHE WHO INCREASED IN FAITH, THOUGH ALL ALONE, WHE KEPT HER EMPTY HOUSE A MAGIC PLACE, HAS MADE THE TOWN A HOLY ANGEL'S THRONE. THE BUSH OF BURNING SPICE. FROM DUST CELESTIAL THAT A CLOUD LET FALL, A BUSH CAME UP, FULL FORTY YEARS UN SEEN, THAT SCATTERED SMOKE AND EVER-BURN ING SPICE ACROSS A FIELD OF THORNS AND BURDOCKS MEAN. AND THEN A CRIPPLED CHILD ON A SWEET TIME, OF HOLIDAY BEHELD IT DECK THE MORN. HIS FRIEND, THE PASTOR, SAW ONE BRANCH, AND SANG. THE VILLAGE LAUGHED THE FLIGHTY PAIR TO SCORN. LATER THE TWO GROWN OLD AND STAID DENIED, THE SOLITARY INSIGHT OF THEIR YOUTH, AND MOCKED THEIR CHILDREN, WHO WITH LAUGHTER SANG, "OUR EYES BEHOLD THE DEATHLESS BUSH OF TRUTH." "WHY DANCE, PRAY TELL," THE CRIPPLE ASKED. "AND CHANT ABOUND A CINDER IN AN EMPTY LOT?" "NO I:URXIXG HUSH," THE PASTOR SAID, "HAS BLOOMED SINCE MOSES' DAY. NEW MIRACLES COME NOT." AND YET THOSE KK.\GII.E ( HII.DUE.V GREW IN STRENGTH, RADIANT AND KOYAL AS THE YEARS IN CREASED. AT LAST THEY BROUGHT THEIR REVERENT LOVERS THERE TO BREATHE THE SMOKE AS THOUGH IT WERE A FEAST. FROM EVERY BRANCH FLEW OUT A BAIN- BOW BIRD, A DARLING SONGSTER WITH HIS PLUMES AFLAME, AND EVERY BIRD FLEW ROUND AND KOI M> A CHILD, AND SANG OF GOD, AND CALLED THE CHILD BY NAME. THESE SWEETHEART'S NE'ER WERE FALSE. EACH WOMAN WORE WITHIN HER !.()( KET SAKE, A FEATHER BLUE, THAT DROPPED TO HER FROM OUT THOSE WHIRRING PLUMES. A TALISMAN THAT KEPT HER LOVER TRUE. AND YET IN AFTER TIME THOSE DAYS GREW DIM, AND LEST THEY BE FOREVER LEFT BEHIND THEY WROTE THEM IN A BOOK IN NOBLE WORDS, SWEET HYMNS ABOUT A BUSH THEY COULD NOT FIND! THE WOMAN CALLED "BEAUTY" AND HER SEVEN DRAGONS. A POEM FOR THOSE WHO DESIRE AN ESTHETIC UTOPIA. SHE BUILT TO THE HEIGHT OF HE BREAST, AN EARTH-WORK OF THISTLES AND SOD. SHE LAVED HER SOFT ARMS IN THE SPRING, SHE SCATTERED THE FIRE WITH A BOD. THE ROSE-PETAL CHILD BY HER SIDE, CRIED OUT WITH A COUNTENANCE WHITE, THE MOUND THEY HAD BUILDED AWOKE, WITH EYES THAT WERE BLINKING AND BRIGHT. THE SEVEN STRANGE DRAGONS OF ART, CAME FORTH LIKE GOLD PARCHMENTS UN ROLLED, AND FAWNED ON THE SIBYL'S DOVE-HAND, SUBMISSIVE AS SHEEP FROM THE FOL1>. YET SHIMMERING OPALS OF FIRE, YET TITAN CHAMELEON KINGS, ALL HISSING IMPATIENTLY THERE, UNSHEATHING THEIR TUSKS AND THEIR STINGS. SHE LAUGHED WHILE THEY FOAMED O'El THE FIELD, AND BLASTED THE HEDGES WITH HEAT, AND POUNDED THE BOULDERS TO DUST, AND ATE THE RED FAGOTS LIKE MEAT. II GO FORTH. TEAR THIS IRON AGE DOWN, "MY SONS," THUS THE WISE WOMAN SPOK I . "AND SET EVERY FANTASY FREE, AND EVERY CRUSHED WORKER UNYOKE. ESTABLISH THE SAN DAL WOOD AGE, ESTABLISH THE WHITE AGE OF ART, WHEN EARTH WILL STILL SIN AS OF OLD, BUT SIN WITH A LOFTIER HKAUT. \\Hi:\ (ATIIIS AM) BRAGGARTS WILL SLAY, BUT SLAY WITH A LOFTIER LUST, WHEN LAUGHTER'S BRIGHT ROAD WILL BE CLEAN, AND TRAGEDY'S PATH MORE AUGUST. WHEN YOUTH WILL CLIMB RECKLESSLY STILL, BUT CLIMB DRAGON-GREAT IN ITS PRIDE, AND FULL-BLOODED, FURIOUS HOSTS, WILL FLAUNT MY WHITE BANNER AND RIDi TO FIGHT AGAINST BALLOTS WITH TRUTH, AGAINST MOBS, WITH THE CHISEL AND PEN; THE PRIZE OF MY SOLDIERS TO BE FAIE CONTINENTS FITTED FOR MEN." Ill THE DRAGONS GAVE HEED TO THAT WORD, LIKE FIELD-FLOWERS THEY BOWED TO HER BREATH, WHO 3IADE THEM AND ORDERED THEM FORTH, WITH POWERS OF CREATION AND DEATH. THE CHILD SMOOTHED THEIR LEONINE MANES. FROM WIZARDRY HID IN THAT HAND, THEY GREW AS THE THUNDER-CLOUDS GROW, ENCOMPASSING WATER AND LAND. AND OH, HOW THEIR SERPENTINE SCALES FLASHED, RATTLED AND CRASHED IN THE AIR! THEY CLIMBED WITH ALL-CONQUERING COILS, GOD'S CRYSTAL, IMPERIAL STAIR. THEY ROARED THROUGH THE PATHWAYS OF DAY, SKY SWEEPING THEIR FOAM-FURROWS FLEW, THE SUN WAS AN ISLAND BESIEGED, THEIR PENNONS TALL WAVES OF THE BLUE. BEHEMOTHS THEY WERE OF THAT TIDE, OVERHEAD THAT MEN CALL THE HIGH NOON, THEIR CRIES IN BLOOD-STIRRING ACCORD, IKE TRUMPETS OF DOOMSDAY IN TUNE! AND NOW THEY WERE GONE LIKE THE WIND, AND CLOUDLESS AND SILENT, THE HOUR, THE SIBYL WENT BACK TO THE TOWN, AND HER SONS HURRIED FORTH IN HEB POWER. THE SOUL OF A BUTTERFLY. I STOOD ON THE WALL WITHOUT A DOOR, WHERE THE HEAVEX OF HEAVENS BEGAN, ON THE SHOHE OF THE DRIED-UP DEEP OF TIME, AND DEATH AND HELL AND MAN. BEHIND ME ROSE JERUSALEM, WITH A HUNDRED WALLS ON HIGH, TO THE ZENITH AND THE UPPER SOUTH, TO THE HILLS ABOVE THE SKY. I COULD NOT FACE THAT ROYAL TOWN, WITH ITS SIDES OF SOARING LIGHT J I STOOD ON THE LOWEST OUTER WALL AND LOOKED TO THE NORTHERN NIGHT. I CREPT TO THE EDGE OF THE ADAMANT, AND PEERED DOWN THE AWFUL STEEP, AND THE ANCIENT EARTH WAS A WILTING FLOWER, ON THE HEAVEN-LIT FIELDS OF THE DEEP. [ KNEW OLD WORMS CONSUMED HEB FACE, I KNEW ALL ELSE WAS FAIR, I KNEW SHE WAS THE BLACKEST PLACE WITHIN THE DEEPER AIR. AT LAST A CLOUD FROM THE RIVER DEATH, ROSE ROUND THAT TOMB OF MEN, BUT A VOICE WITHIN ME CRIED TO ME, ''THE EARTH WILL LIVE AGAIN." AND THE CLOUD OUTSPREAD AND HID THE VOID, AND FOUND NOT ANY REST, TILL THE BOWL OF FATE WAS UI.I.KI' WITH MIST, TO THE LEVEL OF MY BREAST. AND NOW ON THE NORTH HORIZON'S RIM THE DEAD EARTH FLOATED, GRAY AND DIM. IT SEEMED TO ALWAYS FLOAT TO ME, AND THERE I WATCHED IT ENDLESSLY. I SAW THAT DEAD EARTH BUD AND BLOOM, AND FLASH WITH GOLD AND RED! AND NOW IT LOOKED ME IN THE FACE, A BUTTERFLY OF WONDROUS GRACE, THE SOUL OF A GIANT BUTTERFLY ARISEN FROM THE DEAD! RELIGIOUS VERSES HERE'S TO THE SPIRIT OF FIRE. HERE'S TO THE SPIRIT OF FIRE, WHEREVER THE FLAME IS UNFURLED, IN THE SUN, IT MAY BE, AS A TORCH, TO LEAD ON AND ENLIGHTEN THE WORLD", THAT MELTED THE GLACIAL STREAMS, IX THE DAY THAT NO MEMORIES REACH, THAT SHIMMERED IN AMBER AND SHELL AND WEED ON THE EARLIEST BEACH; THE GENIUS OF LOVE AND OF LIFE, THE POWER THAT WILL EVER ABOUND, THAT WAITS IN THE BONES OF THE DEAD, WHO SLEEP TILL THE JUDGMENT SHALL SOUND. HERE'S TO THE SPIRIT OF FIRE, WHEN CLOTHED IN SWIFT MUSIC IT COMES, THE GLOW OF THE HARVESTING SONGS, THE VOICE OF THE NATIONAL DRUMS; THE WHIMSICAL, VARIOUS FIRE, IX THE RHYMES AND IDEAS OF MEN, BURIED IN BOOKS FOR AN AGE, EXPLODING AND WRITHING AGAIN, AND BLOWN A RED WIND ROUND THE WORLD, CONSUMING THE LIES IN ITS MIRTH, THEN LOCKED IN DARK VOLUMES FOR LONG, AND BURIED LIKE COAL IN THE EARTH. HERE'S TO THE COMFORTING FIRE IN THE JOYS OF THE BLIND AND THE MEEK, IN THE CUSTOMS OF LETTERLESS LANDS, IN THE THOUGHTS OF THE STUPID" AND WEAK. IN THE WEARIEST LEGENDS THEY TELL, IN THEIR CRUELEST COLDEST BELIEF, IN THE PROVERBS OF COUNTER OR TILL, IN THE ARTS OF THK PRIEST OR THE THIEF. HERE'S TO THE SPIRIT OF FIRE, THAT NEVER THE OCEAN CAN DROWN, THAT GLOWS IN THE PHOSPHORENT WAVE, AND GLEAMS IN THE SEA-ROSES CROWN ; THAT SLEEPS IN THE SUNBEAM AND MIST, THAT CREEPS AS THE WISE CAN BUT KNOW, A WONDER, AX INCENSE, A WHIM, A PER FUME, A FEAR AND A GLOW, ENSNARING THE STARS WITH A SPELL, AND HOLDING THE EARTH IN A XET, YEA, FILLING THE NATIONS WITH PRAYER, WHEREVER MAN'S PATHWAY IS SET. LOOK YOU, I'LL GO PRAY. LOOK YOU, I'LL GO PRAY, MY SHAME IS CRYING, MY SOUL IS GREY AXD FAINT, MY FAITH IS DYING. LOOK YOU, I'LL GO PRAY "SWEET MARY, MAKE ME CLEAN, THOU RAINSTORM OF THE SOUL, THOU WINE FROM WORLD'S UNSEEN." THE MISSIONARY MISGIVING. (WILL THE WORLD BE BUT NOMINALLY -.;