O LITTLE PALE PILGRIM OF DREAMS

O little pale pilgrim of dreams!

Do you know the names of the flowers,

The ferns by the pools and the streams,

The kisses of God in the showers;

Do you hear His “Hello” on the hills

Where a wind comes out of the cloud,

And fail of the magic that fills

Companions who meet in the crowd?

Thou slow of the heart to believe —

Thou blind of the eyes to behold!

Let go of the things that deceive,

Vain baubles of silver and gold;

Come out and be one with the throng —

Your brothers who wait by the way —

And sing the new Liberty Song

At the wide-flung doors of the day.

Companion of flower and fern,

A brother of Christ and the clod,

And one with all spirits that yearn

The realized image of God;

The centuries wait for thy wings,

And aeons have followed thee far:

Lay hold of the sceptre of things,

Thou lord of the atom and star!