. . . . . . . . . .
Last night the moon of Lammas shined,
Rising high and setting low;
But light is nothing to the blind—
All, all is darkness where they go.
In The Laborer he reminds one of Whitman in lyrics. Here he speaks of the open roads, the blue hills, the tranquil skies, and the serene heavens. A beautiful passage from The Whelk-Gatherer reads:
Where the dim sea-line
Is a wheel unbroken;
Where day dawns on water,
And night falls on wind,