Josephine Preston Peabody

Brook, of the listening grass, Brook of the sun-fleckt wings, Brook of the same wild way and flickering spell!

I Over the broken world, the dark gone by, Horror of outcast darkness torn with wars;

Unto my Gladness then I cried: 'I will not be denied! Answer me now; and tell me why

Lord of the Sea, we sun-filled creatures raise Our hands among the clamorous weeds,--we too. Lord of the Sun, and of the upper blue,

'Rich man, Poor man, Beggar man, Thief, Doctor, Lawyer, Merchant, Chief.' I Highway, stretched along the sun,

Oh, who will hush that cry outside the doors, While we are glad within? Go forth, go forth, all you my servitors;

Beautiful Mother, I have toiled all day; And I am wearied. And the day is done. Now, while the wild brooks run

The winds are lashing on the sea; The roads are blind with storm. And it's far and far away with me;

All through the summer night, down the long lane in flower, The moon-white lane, All through the summer night,--dim as a shower,

Yes, Nightingale, through all the summer-time We followed on, from moon to golden moon; From where Salerno day-dreams in the noon,

All day long he kept the sheep:-- Far and early, from the crowd, On the hills from steep to steep,

I He sang above the vineyards of the world. And after him the vines with woven hands

I Now, in the thousandth year, When April's near,

Light, light,--the last: Till the night be done, Keep the watch for stars and sun, and eyelids over-cast.