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Rh In vain the buzzard houses herself with the sky, In vain the snake slides through the creepers and
 * logs,

In vain the elk takes to the inner passes of the
 * woods,

In vain the razor-billed auk sails far north to
 * Labrador,

I follow quickly, I ascend to the nest in the fissure
 * of the cliff.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are
 * so placid and self-contained,

I stand and look at them sometimes an hour at a
 * stretch.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their
 * sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to
 * God,

No one is dissatisfied—not one is demented with the
 * mania of owning things,

Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived
 * thousands of years ago,

Not one is respectable or industrious over the whole
 * earth.

So they show their relations to me, and I accept
 * them,

They bring me tokens of myself—they evince them
 * plainly in their possession.

I do not know where they get those tokens, Rh