i 5 o THE FACE OF THE FIELDS 



not this earth a star ? Are not the prairie, the pine 

 tree, and man the dust of stars *? each a part of the 

 other? all parts of one whole a universe, round, 

 rolling, without beginning, without end, without 

 flaw, without lack, a universe self-sustained, per- 

 fect? 



I stay my haste, I make delays, 



For what avails this eager pace ? 

 I stand amid the eternal ways, 



And what is mine shall know my face. 



Mr. Burroughs came naturally by such a view 

 of nature and its consequent optimism. It is due 

 partly to his having been born and brought 

 up on a farm where he had what was due him 

 from the start. Such birth and bringing-up is the 

 natural right of every boy. To know and to do 

 the primitive, the elemental ; to go barefoot, to 

 drive the cows, to fish, and to go to school with 

 not too many books but with " plenty of real 

 things" these are nominated in every boy's 



bond. 



Serene, I fold my hands and wait, 



is the poem of a childhood on the farm, and the 

 poem of a manhood on the farm, in spite of the 

 critic who says : 



