ISSUE: Spring 1926
Leave me unknown where hundreds hurry by,
Unhoused and lost where many people dwell;
But let me hear, far off, a cattle bell
Go tinkling underneath a star-mad sky.
Cast me out tired on a long, hard road,
To know the ache of limbs, the beaten pride;
But leave upon the dusk-blue mountain side
The little orange lights that always glowed.
Set in my plowshare where the red earth spills
Beneath the fruitful trees of other men;
But let me watch, when April comes again,
The blossoms burst like fire across green hills.
