sed of the folly of strife
for things worthless of strife,
Come forth and gain life and grasp God by foregoing
gains worthless of life"--

It was thus spake the wizard wildwood, low-voiced
to the hearkening heart,
It was thus sang the jovial hills, and the harper
sun bore part.

O woman, whose blood as my blood with the fire
of the Spring is aflame,
We did well, when the red roads called, that we
heeded the call and came--
Came forth to the sweet wise silence where soul
may speak sooth unto soul,
Vine-wreathed and vagabond Love, with the goal
of Nowhere for our goal!

What planet-crowned Dusk that wanders the
steeps of our firmament there
Hath gems that may match with the dew-opals
meshed in thine opulent hair?
What wind-witch that skims the curled billows
with feet they are fain to caress
Hath sandals so wing'd as thine art with a
god-like carelessness?

And dare we not dream this is heaven?--to wander
thus on, ever on.
Through the hush-heavy valleys of space, up the
flushing red slopes of the dawn?--
For none that seeks rest shall find rest till he
ceaseth his striving for rest,
And the gain of the quest is the joy of the road
that allures to the quest.

THE LAND OF YESTERDAY

AND I would seek the country town
Amid green meadows nestled down
If I could only find the way
Back to the Land of Yesterday!

How I would thrust the miles aside,
Rush up the quiet lane, and then,
Just where her roses laughed in pride,
Find her among the flowers again.
I'd slip in silently and wait
Until she saw me by the gate,
And then ... read through a blur of tears
Quick pardon for the selfish years.

This time, this time, I would not wait
For that brief wire that said, _Too late!_--
If I could only find the way
Into the Land of Yesterday.

I wonder if her roses yet
Lift up their heads and laugh with pride,
And if her phlox and mignonette
Have heart to blossom by their side;
I wonder if the dear old lane
Still chirps with robins after rain,
And if the birds and banded bees
Still rob her early cherry-trees....

I wonder, if I went there now,
How everything would seem, and how--
But no! not now; there is no way
Back to the Land of Yesterday.

OCTOBER

CEASE to call him sad and sober,
Merriest of months, Octo