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,
...
βIS water nigh?β
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.
...