" They saw the silences 

 Move by and beckon ; saw the forms, 

 The very beards, of burly storms, 

 And heard them talk like sounding sea* . . . 

 They saw the snowy mountains rolled 

 And heaved along the nameless lands 

 Like mighty billows j 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 of shyness ; 



la 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 prairio, 

 Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spaead 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 



forefeet, the hoofs as sharp as knives . . . 

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



bed of hemlock boughs, and the bear-skin." 



W*H Whitman, 



