KINSHIP
Oh, little children, ye who watch the trains go by,
With yearning faces pressed against the window panes,
You do not know the reason why
Your lingering image dims my eye
Though I have passed beyond the hills into the rolling plains.
Dear little children, I once watched the trains go by,
And hungered, much as when I feel the silent stars;
And then I saw the cold gray skies,
And felt the warm tears in my eyes,
When far beyond the distant hills I heard the rumbling cars.
PRECOCITY
"Oh, grandfather, what are the stars?
Stones on the hand of God?
I heard you call that red one Mars
And those three Aaron's rod;
And these are great Orion's band!"
"My child, you are too young to understand!"
"Oh, grandfather, what are the winds
That sough and moan and sigh?
Does God grow angry for men's sins
He lifts the waves so high?
And blows his breath o'er sea and land?"
"My boy, you are too young to understand!"
"Oh, grandfather, what are the clouds
In yonder sunset sky?
They look to me like winding shrouds
For men about to die!
Dear grandfather, your trembling hand!"
"My son, you are too young to understand!"