Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.

Perhaps that dawn will come from this horizon, from the East where the sun rises. A day will come when unvanquished Man will retrace his path of conquest, despite all barriers, to win back his lost human heritage.

The trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.

It is the same life that emerges in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless waves of flower.

Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world, I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the love of man.

Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord.