Then many boughs, with many birds,-- Young boughs in green, old boughs in gray,-- These birds had very much to say In their soft, sweet, familiar words. And all seemed sudden glad; the gloom Forgot the church, forgot the tomb; And yet like monks with cross and bead The myrtles leaned to read and read. And oh the fragrance of the sod! And oh the perfume of the air! The sweetness, sweetness everywhere, That rose like incense up to God! I like a cow's breath in sweet spring, I like the breath of babes new-born; A maid's breath is a pleasant thing,-- But oh the breath of sudden morn! Of sudden morn, when every pore Of mother earth is pulsing fast With life, and life seems spilling o'er With love, with love too sweet to last: Of sudden morn beneath the sun, By God's great river wrapped in gray, That for a space forgets to run, And hides his face as if to pray. XI. The black-eyed Creole kept his eyes Turned to the door, as eyes might turn To see the holy embers burn Some sin away at sacrifice. Full dawn! but yet he knew no dawn, Nor song of bird, nor bird on wing, Nor breath of rose, nor anything Her fair face lifted not upon. And yet he taller stood with morn; His bright eyes, brighter than before, Burned fast against that fastened door, His proud lips lifting up with scorn,-- With lofty, silent scorn for one Who all night long had plead and plead, With none to witness but the dead How he for gold must be undone. Oh, ye who feed a greed for gold, And barter truth, and trade sweet youth For cold hard gold, behold, behold! Behold this man! behold this truth! Why, what is there in all God's plan Of vast creation, high or low, By sea or land, by sun or snow, So mean, so miserly as man? Lo, earth and heaven all let go Their garnered riches, year by year! The treasures of the trackless snow, Ah, hast thou seen how very dear? The wide earth gives, gives golden grain, Gives fruits of gold, gives all, gives all! Hold forth your hand, and these shall fall In your full palm as free as rain. Yea, earth is generous. The trees Strip nude as birth-time without fear, And their reward is year by year To feel their fulness but increase. The law of Nature is to give, To give, to give! and to rejoice In giving with a generous voice, And so trust God and truly live. But see this miser at the last,-- This man who loves, grasps hold of gold, Who grasps it with such eager hold, To hold forever hard and fast: As if to hold what God lets go; As if to hold, while all around Lets go, and drops upon the ground All things as generous as snow. Let go your greedy hold, I say! Let go your hold! Do not refuse 'Till death comes by and shakes you loose, And sends you shamed upon your way.