THE LANTERN which I carry in my hand makes enemy of the darkness of the farther road. And this wayside becomes a terror to me, where even the flowering tree frowns like a spectre of scowling menace; and the sound of my own steps comes back to me in the echo of muffled suspicion. Therefore I pray for thy own morning light, when the far and the near will kiss each other and death and life will be one in love.
FREE ME AS free are the birds of the wilds, the wanderers of unseen paths. Free me as free are the deluge of rain, and as the storm that shakes its locks and rushes on to its unknown end. Free me as free is the forest fire, as is the thunder that laughs aloud and hurls defiance to darkness.