Xlix

Behold, the winds have speech and speak! The stars of heaven are eloquent! A voice within us bids us seek The word the flowers say in scent: The paraclete encouragement Of beauty that the burning scrolls Of eve and morning give our souls.

There is one language of the mart; Another of the rocks and trees: Unrest and greed is this one’s heart; The other’s heart is rest and peace: Within our souls we know of these; They lead us by the myths we love, Yet never see and know not of.