* * * * *
Something Most Dull lies – in Nature –
Its creaks of Ice – its cracks – of Gold –
The nearing of the – Farthest – Sky
When Sun shudders in Raiment Cold –
The Bowed-down Continents – of Trees
Under the Conquering Cloudburst Bold –
The swift – Scythe-like – Swoosh of the Breeze
In meadows’ restored Emerald –
Where Bird coos out – Beetle Buzzes –
An unfurling of Flowers untold –
The Crystal Law of Noon – transfixed –
Which – rows of Sentient hours – Uphold
On Caspians of Clamoring corn –
The willful Winds which rip – and fold
All that was Hope into – mere heap –
And then again – cracks in the Mold –
None – but the Snow ’neath neighing Skies –
All – to spell only – one Word – God!

* * * * *