That saw the old earth still dewy with surprise!
THE WAY OF THE WHITE SOULS
(To the Memory of Joyce Kilmer, killed in action, July 30, 1918)
I stood in the summer night, when the hosts of heaven seemed nigh,
And I saw the powdery swirl of stars, where it swept across the sky,
The wide way of the white stars, where it ran up and down,
And my heart was sad for the man who said It was Main Street, Heaventown.
He chose to walk in the Main Street, in the wide ways of men;
He set wings to the common things with the kind touch of his pen;
He caught the lilt of the old tune that the hearts of the plain folk beat;