THE BROWN FRONTIER 



most acorn, lifting its cup toward the sky, 

 obediently falls and passes through the 

 dark barrier, to return when the life-call 

 bids. Steadily go on arrival and depar- 

 ture. The gorgeous lichen is hung upon 

 the rotting log. White rue rises and white 

 snows sink. Fire demons split the rocks, 

 and after them in a thousand years conies 

 bloodroot. Floods rush down, and wind- 

 flowers and cities follow; and leisurely, 

 another spring, the gates that received 

 them part, and a legion of new cowslips 

 marches out. 



[95] 



