Fearless--the Cobweb Swings From The Ceiling-- Indolent

Our Journey Had Advanced; Our Feet Were Almost Come To That Odd Fork In Being's Road, Eternity By Term.

Not 'revelation'-'tis That Waits/ But Our Unfurnished Eyes

To Be Alive──is Power.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

His Labor Is A Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, For A Bee's Experience Of Clovers, And Of Noon!