25.
Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged, nodding on our
way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
26.
Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the daybreak call—hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind;
Swift! to the head of the army!—swift! spring to your places,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
TO THE SAYERS OF WORDS.
1.
Earth, round, rolling, compact—suns, moons, animals—all these are words
to be said;
Watery, vegetable, sauroid advances—beings, premonitions, lispings of
the future,
Behold! these are vast words to be said.
Were you thinking that those were the words—those upright lines? those
curves, angles, dots?
No, those are not the words—the substantial words are in the ground and
sea,
They are in the air—they are in you.
Were you thinking that those were the words—those delicious sounds out of your friends' mouths? No; the real words are more delicious than they.
Human bodies are words, myriads of words;
In the best poems reappears the body, man's or woman's, well-shaped,
natural, gay;
Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame.