Page:General William Booth enters into Heaven, and other poems.djvu/91

Rh Rude stream of Dreamland Town. She bound them to my shoulders With fingers golden-brown. The wings were part of me; The willow-wands were hot. Pulses from my heart Healed each bruise and spot Of the morning-glory buds, Beginning to unfold Beneath her burning song of suns untold. The Indian Girl Tells the Hero Where to Go to Get the Laughing Bell

"To the farthest star of all, Go, make a moment's raid. To the west&mdash;escape the earth Before your pennons fade! West! west! o'ertake the night That flees the morning sun. There's a path between the stars&mdash;, A black and silent one. O tremble when you near The smallest star that sings: Only the farthest star Is cool for willow wings.