在笔下光滑如雪?铁耕的最肥沃的田地，孕育着人类的思想，雨容不下天堂。他们在那里成熟，千倍;我们的灵魂收割玉米，在一整天的黄金之梦中?所有未出生的灵魂的食物。就像大地的低语，当我们弯下腰倾听，就像大自然的汁液在歌唱?让生长的树木冒着泡沫。笔向它唱着微妙的歌，而流动的思想，在每一个新的时代?mother-Nile。比环绕的海更大，因为它掌管着海和地;每一种行为的种子都要像沙子一样顺着它的水流流下来。 I caress thy surface sheer, Holding thee the Absolute; Where the things to be inhere, Waiting their material bruit. How I love thee! my heart?s blood Were too dull to smutch thy white! I?ll aver: no lily?s bud Lays such unction on my sight. Suave of maiden?s throat or arm, Bliss embodied to the touch, Has not such ambrosial charm? Not a marble Goddess such! Dear White Paper! All To-day Palpitates with spirit-heat? Only on thy whiteness may Seers translate its rhythms sweet! Holy Paper! all the Past Were a rack of ruined cloud Stripping from our orbit vast, But thou Eternity endowed With an actual soul of speech? Life of life by death distilled? That all dateless days shall reach, As life?s vine of veins is filled. O, the glorious Heavens wrought By Cadmean souls of yore From pure element of Thought! And thy leaves their silvern door! Light they open, and we stand Past the sovereignty of Fate; Glad among Them, still and grand, The Creators and Create