I shall hear hintings of eternities.

[Pg 44]

[Pg 44]

FROM ABOVE

What do I care if the trees are bare

And the hills are dark

And the skies are gray.

What do I care for chill in the air

For crows that cark

At the rough wind's way.

What do I care for the dead leaves there—

Or the sullen road

By the sullen wood.

There's heart in my heart

To bear my load!

So enough, the day is good!

[Pg 45]

[Pg 45]

BY THE INDUS

Thou art late, O Moon,

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