Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/138

128 Them soon he overtook with noiseless steps.

"Of such a land the holy father told,

Who bade me follow him," the younger said,

"A place of ruin and old chaos stilled,

As on the moon an earthly visitant

Might gaze on planetary death around,—

The ribbed sea bottom from its base uptorn,

Volcanic holocausts of shattered hills

And sandy oceans blown by warring storms,"

And, startled, he beheld the Roamer nigh,

And blessed him coming: "Peace abide with thee,

Who enterest these dead lands inhospitable!"

He said, upon the Roamer's face intent.

"How is thy countenance fair!" abrupt he spoke,

As to himself. "Welcome I seek," replied

The Roamer, "who have nought to give in turn;"

And humble stood, as one who begs a boon.

"True poverty is all our riches here,"

The elder answered: "love is all our wealth

For many a league foregone, love all our alms

Given or received,—God's love." "Tell me of love,"

Struck by a sudden radiance divine,

The Roamer said, devout,—and, on bright sands

As on the threshold of a world to come

Reposing, harkened, as to one in dreams,

The wisdom of the desert, golden-mouthed.