Hamlin Garland

Do you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
...

WE had been long in mountain snow,
In valleys bleak, and broad, and bare,
Where only moss and willows grow,
...

Somewhere, in deeps
Of tangled, ripening wheat,
A little prairie-chicken cries-
...

Through wild and tangled forests
The broad, unhasting river flows-
Spotted with rain-drops, gray with night;
Upon its curving breast there goes
...

From the great trees the locusts cry
In quavering ecstatic duo-a boy
Shouts a wild call-a mourning dove
In the blue distance sobs-the wind
...

And all night long we lie in sleep,
Too sweet to sigh in, or to dream,
Unnoting how the wild winds sweep,
...

“IS water nigh?”
The plainsmen cry,
As they meet and pass in the desert grass.
With finger tip
...

A BRAVE little bird that fears not God,
A voice that breaks from the snow-wet clod
With prophecy of sunny sod,
...

What have I gained by the toil of the trail?
I know and know well.
I have found once again the lore I had lost
In the loud city's hell.
...

A COLD coiled line of mottled lead,
He lies where grazing cattle tread,
And lifts a fanged and spiteful head.
...

Ho, brother! Art thou prisoned too?
Is thy heart hot with restless pain?
I heard the call thy bugle blew
...

I SAW these dreamers of dreams go by,
I trod in their footsteps a space;
Each marched with his eyes on the sky,
...

THEY rise to mastery of wind and snow;
They go like soldiers grimly into strife
To colonize the plain. They plough and sow,
...

At last there came
The sudden fall of frost, when Time
Dreaming through russet September days
Suddenly awoke, and lifting his head, strode
...

Within my hand I hold
A piece of lichen-spotted stone—
Each fleck red-gold—
And with closed eyes I hear the moan
...

WE had been long in mountain snow,
In valleys bleak, and broad, and bare,
Where only moss and willows grow,
...

Oh! say you so, bold sailor
In the sun-lit deeps of sky!
Dost thou so soon the seed-time tell
...

To W. W.
SERENE, vast head, with silver cloud of hair
Lined on the purple dusk of death,
A stern medallion, velvet set—
...

ALL day and many days I rode,
My horse’s head set toward the sea;
And as I rode a longing came to me
That I might keep the sunset road,
...

BENEATH the burning brazen sky,
The yellowed tepees stand.
Not far away a singing river
...