Page:American Poetry 1922.djvu/73

 Stupendous and endless, Searching its perilous ways In the name of the Ancient of Days.

Painted kings in the midst of the clearing Heard him asking his friends the eagles To guard each planted seed and seedling. Then he was a god, to the red man's dreaming; Then the chiefs brought treasures grotesque and fair,— Magical trinkets and pipes and guns, Beads and furs from their medicine-lair,— Stuck holy feathers in his hair, Hailed him with austere delight. The orchard god was their guest through the night.

While the late snow blew from bleak Lake Erie, Scourging rock and river and reed, All night long they made great medicine For Jonathan Chapman, Johnny Appleseed, Johnny Appleseed; And as though his heart were a wind-blown wheat-sheaf, 59