They leave the car in pairs, the picnic basket's
Rattling dismally, plate and spoon and jar.
The boy takes his girl to her lodgings in awkward silence.
They look askance—"Good-night!"—the front door closes,
Indeed their eyes have not met, since by the river
Those wondrous moments
Linked them to earth and night, not to each other.
IV. INTERLUDE
Mountain Trails
(GLACIER PARK, SEPT. '17)
I
Night stands in the valley
Her head
Is bound with stars,
While Dawn, a grey-eyed nun
Steals through the silent trees.
Behind the mountains
Morning shouts and sings
And dances upward.
II
The peaks even today show finger prints
Where God last touched the earth
Before he set it joyously in space
Finding it good.
III
You, slender shining—
You, downward leaping—
Born from silent snow
To drown at last in the blue silent
Mountain lake—
You are not snow or water,
You are only a silver spirit
Singing!