remor shakes
Every leaf that is blown--
While a zephyr advancing,
Breathes gently and breaks
The light into dancing
Figures, with glancing
Rhythms and rhymes of their own.

Yes, here in this spot, in this edge of an acre
All of the world is, the heart and the whole of it--
Here is a universe; daily the Maker
Shows here the sweet and extravagant soul of it.
For the arms of the maple have held in their cover
The earth and the sky and the stars, every one--
Not the tenderest twig but has known, like a lover
The silence, the night and the sun.

Not the airiest bird but has sung, all unknowing,
The joy of each minstrel that carols unheard.
And Summer, green fields and a world of things growing,
Are brought to this spot by the breath of a bird.
And there's never a wind but brings road-sides and ranches,
Forests and tales of the far-off and free--
And the rush of the breeze as it sings in the branches
Echoes and answers the rush of the sea...

A group of old maple-trees brooding in peace by the river--
That--and a bird, nothing else... But above and around it,
The spell of the infinite beauty, half-hidden forever,
Lies, like a secret of God's--and here I have found it.
The hymn of the cosmic--the anthem that has for its choir
Stars, rivers and flowers--still rises and sweeps me along;
While the cry of the oriole melts in a sunset of fire
And the heavens, a jubilant chorus, are flushed with the
fires of Song!

AFFIRMATION

As long as vigorous discontent
Goads us from torpid ease, or worse,
I thank the power that sent
Struggle, the savior of the universe.

As long as things are torn and hurled
In this implacable unrest,
I shall embrace the world
With joyful fierceness and undying zest.

I shall grow strong with every hurt;
The scorn, the anger will achieve
Only a glad, alert
Desire to question boldly--and believe.

My eager faith shall keep me set
Against despair or careless hate,
Knowing this smoke and sweat
Is forging something violent--and great!

DOWN-HILL ON A BICYCLE

The rolling earth stops
As I climb to the summit,
Then like a plummet
It suddenly drops...

Down, down I go--
Past rippling acres;
Hillsides like breakers
Over me flow.

Wildly alive
I hail the green