Go Forth Under The Open Sky, And

Do Not The Bright June Roses Blow To Meet Thy Kiss At Morning Hours?

The Fiercest Agonies Have Shortest Reign; And After Dreams Of Horror, Comes Again The Welcome Morning With Its Rays Of Peace.

That Make The Meadows Green; And, Poured Round All, Old Ocean's Gray And Melancholy Waste,-- Are But The Solemn Decorations All Of The Great Tomb Of Man.

Look On This Beautiful World, And Read The Truth In Her Fair Page.

Oh, Constellations Of The Early Night That Sparkled Brighter As The Twilight Died, And Made The Darkness Glorious! I Have Seen Your Rays Grow Dim Upon The Horizon's Edge And Sink Behind The Mountains. I Have Seen The Great Orion, With His Jewelled Belt, That Large-limbed Warrior Of The Skies, Go Down Into The Gloom. Beside Him Sank A Crowd Of Shining Ones.