Though the stars like some snow-white
Mineroas' snow-like marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
From looking up too much,
And fallen and been humbled
To wear to Crutch".
But after all where are we?
To give whatever might chance to be
Warning and time to be off in flight.
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck—it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread.
And forced the underbush—and that was all
And not seen by me have of day
Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could hear no more—
Between stars—on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Or if predestined to die late
Make up your mind to die in state.