My townspeople, beyond in the great world, are many with whom it were far more profitable for me to live than here with you. These whirr about me calling, calling! and for my own part I answer them, loud as I can, but they, being free, pass! I remain! Therefore, listen! For you will not soon have another singer. First I say this: you have seen the strange birds, have you not, that sometimes rest upon our river in winter? Let them cause you to think well then of the storms that drive many to shelter. These things do not happen without reason. And the next thing I say is this: I saw an eagle once circling against the clouds over one of our principal churches-- Easter, it was--a beautiful day!--: three gulls came from above the river and crossed slowly seaward! Oh, I know you have your own hymns, I have heard them-- and because I knew they invoked some great protector I could not be angry with you, no matter how much they outraged true music-- You see, it is not necessary for us to leap at each other, and, as I told you, in the end the gulls moved seaward very quietly. APPEAL You who are so mighty, crimson salamander, hear me once more. I lay among the half burned sticks at the edge of the fire. The fiend was creeping in. I felt the cold tips of fingers-- O crimson salamander! Give me one little flame, one! that I may bind it protectingly about the wrist of him that flung me here, here upon the very center! This is my song. IN HARBOR Surely there, among the great docks, is peace, my mind; there with the ships moored in the river. Go out, timid child, and snuggle in among the great ships talking so quietly. Maybe you will even fall asleep near them and be lifted into one of their laps, and in the morning-- There is always the morning in which to remember it all! Of what are they gossiping? God knows. And God knows it matters little for we cannot understand them. Yet it is certainly of the sea, of that there can be no question. It is a quiet sound. Rest! That’s all I care for now. The smell of them will put us to sleep presently. Smell! It is the sea water mingling here into the river-- at least so it seems--perhaps it is something else--but what matter? The sea water! It is quiet and smooth here! How slowly they move, little by little trying the hawsers that drop and groan with their agony. Yes, it is certainly of the high sea they are talking. WINTER SUNSET