L'ENVOI.
For fame I ask not.
For gold I care not.
I am weary and would rest
In the old child-nest.
I would lie down, heart to heart,
O the old earth's heart—
I would wander off and be
With the olden mystery.
I would hear,
From the pea-field, sweet and clear,
Old bobwhite's whistle in my ear;
And the blackbird
Choir burst again
Into the strain
The world-free spirit heard.
I would go out there, and gaze
Through the haze
That comes drifting o'er the skies
When the sunshine dies,
And watch night
Kiss to sleep the tired eyes of light.
Where the sea-wind sighs,
And the fireflies
In glowing armies come,,
Spellbound, entranced with loveliness,
I would pause as one grown dumb
With happiness.
With the fairies, hand in hand,
I would roam through Fairyland;
There, in the clover, by the stream,
I would fall face-down and dream.
I would go out home and find
My own kind—
Lie down on their graves and gain,
As of old, surcease from pain.
I would thrust
From my soul its weight of dust;
From my heart
I would put all care apart;
And hear what saith
Innocence and love and faith.
Nearer, Mother Nature, I would be
To the lost gods and to thee.