By John G. Neihardt
Moment anthology of poetry released through John G. Neihardt; good bought.
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But where is the thrill of glory Born of a great surprise? This is the old, old story; These are the ancient skies. Child of the prairie expanses, Often the soul of me Hungered for long sea-glances; And here-at last-is the sea. Yon goes a sea-gull flying; There is a sinking mast; This is the ocean crying! This is the rune of the Vast 1 But out in my mother country, Ever since I was born, This is the song my brother Winds Sang in the fields of corn. 35 Man-Song And there, in the purple midnights Sullen and still with heat, This is the selfsame drone that ran Over the heading wheat.
See! Everywhere buds coming out, blossoms flaming, bees humming! Glad athletic Growers up-reaching, things striving, becoming! Oh, I know in my heart, in the sun-quickened, blossoming soul of me, This something called self is a part, but the World is the whole of me! 31 Man-Song I am one with these growers, these singers, these earnest becomenr-Ccrheirs of the summer to be and past reons of summers! I kneel not nor grovel; no prayer with my lips shall I fashion. Close-knit in the fabric of things, fused with one common passionTo go on and become something greater-we Growers are one; None more in the World than a bird and none less than the sun; But all woven into the glad indivisible Scheme, God fashioning out in the Finite a part of his Dream!
46 John G. Neihardt Where did we meet thereafter? Why do you serve me so? What have I wrought for you? Could I have fought for you, Died for you, ages ago? Once in a city of wonders, Was I a poet-king? And were you a lad Of the sheep-lands, madMad with the passion to sing? ) Bid my horns blown for you, Shared my proud throne with you, Clad you with purple, a prince? Where does our dust lie buried? When shall it aU be clear? From There and Then, Oh, how and when Did we come to the Now and Here? It is dim like a dream in the morning; It is blurred like a cross-writ page: Yet-somehow I cling to you, Grope for you, sing to youFriend 0/ my yesterage!
Man-Song by John G. Neihardt