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Weaves so graceful a carpet for our footsteps,

So gracious a coverlet for our repose.

I know that he, ill-fed, soul-starved,

Grimed and mutilated.

Is one, even as I am one.

With the mountains which stand afar off

And draw their veils about them.

I rejoice in the great forests because they are part of me.

As I shall be of them ;

Sanctuaries of the gods, solemn and silent.

In them the Centuries are sleeping.

The arms of the Titans beckon the Winds to come to

them, Enticing them from the ever-calling, never-sleeping Sea, Which, when Odysseus fought with it. Was even then older than Time. I know that I am one with all of these, and more. And my brothers are one with them, and more. And these, and more, are one with me and my brothers ; We are an universal whole. It is good to know our unity. It is good to believe that I, and all of these. Are of the same unity with the white sheep. Bleating soft and querulous upon the hillsides ; The thunder-voiced kine in the green meadows. Standing knee-deep in the marshes ; My loving dog who regards me insistently With faithful eyes, and my soft-furred cat Which whirrs the mysterious wheel of its content Upon my shoulder.

It is good to believe that the men, the women And children we kill are our brothers, Our sisters, our children.

TRUTH: Nature is part of Eternity.

She knows not Time, She permits no ugliness. Not Morality, but Beauty, is her delight.

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