" They saw the silences 

 Move by and beckon ; saw the forms, 

 The very beards, of burly storms, 

 And heard them talk like sounding seas . . . 

 They saw the snowy mountains rolled 

 And heaved along the nameless lands 

 Like mighty billows ; saw the gold 

 Of awful sunsets ; saw the blush 

 Of sudden dawn, and felt the hush 

 Of heaven when the day sat down 

 And hid his face in dusky hands." 



Joaquin Miller. 



" In vain the speeding or shyness ; 



In vain the elk takes to the inner passes of the woods . . . 

 . . . where geese nip their food with short jerks, 



Where sundown shadows lengthen over the limitless prairie, 



Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square miles, far 

 and near, 



Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and ice-clad trees . . . 



The moose, large as an ox, cornered by hunters, plunging with his fore- 

 feet, the hoofs as sharp as knives . . . 



The blazing fire at night, the sweet taste of supper, the talk, the bed of 

 hemlock boughs, and the bear-skin." 



Walt Whitman. 



