I asked him in front of the station-house wall
If he had lodging. Says, "None at all."
I pointed to my heart and looked in his face. —
"Here, — if you haven't got a better place."
He looked and he said: "Oh, we still must roam
But if you'll keep it open, well, I'll call it `home'."
The thrush now slept whose pillow was his wing.
So the song ended and the four remained
Still in the faint starshine that silvered them,
While the low sound went on of broken water
Out of the spring and through the darkness flowing
Over a stone that held it from the sea.
Whether the men spoke after could not be told,
A mist from the ground so veiled them, but they waited
A little longer till the moon came up;
Then on the gilded track leading to the mountains,
Against the moon they faded in common gold
And earth bore East with all toward the new morning.
God's Acre. [Witter Bynner]
Because we felt there could not be
A mowing in reality
So white and feathery-blown and gay
With blossoms of wild caraway,
I said to Celia, "Let us trace
The secret of this pleasant place!"
We knew some deeper beauty lay
Below the bloom of caraway,
And when we bent the white aside
We came to paupers who had died:
Rough wooden shingles row on row,
And God's name written there — `John Doe'.
General William Booth Enters into Heaven. [Vachel Lindsay]
(To be sung to the tune of `The Blood of the Lamb' with indicated instrument)