And I whispered, "Alas, Little Brother, why must it befall That the passing of angels but cripples and leaves us to die? Poor imp of the greensward, God trumpets me clear in thy call; Thou art braver than I. "The Bright Ones of Heaven have trodden me down as they passed; I crawl in their footsteps a trampled and impotent thing. I know not the reason, nor question henceforth. To the last, While I live, I will sing." AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR REST AT NOON Now with a re-created mind Back to the world my way I find; Fed by the hills one little hour, By meadow-slope and beechen-bower, Cedar serene, benignant larch, Hoar mountains and the azure arch Where dazzling vapors make vast sport In God's profound and spacious court. The universe played with me. Earth Harped to high heaven her sweetest mirth; The clouds built castles for my pleasure, And airy legions without measure Flung, spindrift-wise, across the sky To thrill my heart once and to die. I have held converse with large things; For cherubim with cooling wings Brushed me, and gay stars, hid from view, Called through the arras of the blue And clapped their hands: "These veils uproll! And see the comrades of your soul!" The very flowers that ringed my bed Their little "God-be-with-you" said, And every insect, bird and bee Brought cool cups from eternity. HERMANN HAGEDORN ORDER It is half-past eight on the blossomy bush: The petals are spread for a sunning; The little gold fly is scrubbing his face; The spider is nervously running To fasten a thread; the night-going moth Is folding his velvet perfection; And presently over the clover will come The bee on a tour of inspection. PAUL SCOTT MOWRER THE NIGHT-MOTH My night-moth, my white moth, out of the fragrant dark Blowing in and growing like a dim star-spark, So swift in the shifting of your elfin wings, So slight in your lighting, as a flower that clings, As a boat to ride the dew, with sheer up-bearing sails, Pulsing and breathing, rocked with delicate gales,-- You gleam as a dream, by my window's light, My white moth, my bright moth, my wandering wraith of night.