For A Moment Of Night We Have

Touch The Earth, Love The Earth, Honour The Earth, Her Plains, Her Valleys, Her Hills, And Her Seas; Rest Your Spirit In Her Solitary Places.

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 Adventure Of The Sun Is The Greatest Natural Drama By Which We Live.

For A Moment Of Night We Have A Glimpse Of Ourselves And Of Our World Islanded In A Stream Of Stars - Pilgrims Of Mortality, Voyaging Between Horizons Across The Eternal Seas Of Space And Time.

I Am Glad That The Country World...retains A Power To Use Our English Tongue. It Is A Part Of Its Sense Of Reality, Of Its Vocabulary Of Definite Terms, And Of Its Habit Of Earthly Common Sense. I Find This Country Writing An Excellent Corrective Of The Urban Vocabulary Of Abstractions And Of The Emotion Disguised As Thinking Which Abstractions And Humbug Have Loosed Upon The World. May There Always Be Such Things As A Door, A Milk Pail, And A Loaf Of Bread, And Words To Do Them Honor.