Do No Dishonor To The Earth Lest

Hold Your Hands Out Over The Earth As Over A Flame. To All Who Love Her, Who Open To Her The Doors Of Their Veins, She Gives Of Her Strength, Sustaining Them With Her Own Measureless Tremor Of Dark Life. Touch The Earth, Love The Earth, Honor The Earth, Her Plains, Her Valleys, Her Hills, And Her Seas; Rest Your Spirit In Her Solitary Places. For The Gifts Of Life Are The Earth's And They Are Given To All, And They Are The Songs Of Birds At Daybreak, Orion And The Bear, And Dawn Seen Over Ocean From The Beach.

The World Today Is Sick To Its Thin Blood For Lack Of Elemental Things, For Fire Before The Hands, For Water Welling From The Earth, For Air, For The Dear Earth Itself Underfoot. In My World Of Beach And June These Elemental Presences Lived And Had Their Being.

Poor Body, Time And The Long Years Were The First Tailors To Teach You The Merciless Use Of Clothes. Though Some Scold Today Because You Are Too Much Seen, To My Mind, You Are Not Seen Fully Enough Or Often Enough When You Are Beautiful.

The Quality Of Life, Which In The Ardour Of Spring Was Personal And Sexual, Becomes Social In Midsummer.

If Gardeners Will Forget A Little The Phrase, "watering The Plants" And Think Of Watering As A Matter Of "watering The Earth" Under The Plants, Keeping Up Its Moisture Content And Gauging Its Need, The Garden Will Get On Very Well.