SLEEPING OUT OF DOORS 



I raise my head, 



The splendid moon I see; 



Then droop my head, 



And sink to dreams of thee, 



My Fatherland, of thee. 



Sometimes after the moon has set and just before 

 the dawn, when the grasshoppers and crickets have 

 ceased their nocturnal chorus, there comes a period 

 of stillness so intense that in the distance one can hear 

 the wind sweeping across the forest, where each tree 

 bends in graceful salutation at the passing of the god. 

 Nearer and nearer comes the rushing sound, until the 

 swaying vines are caught in its embrace; then it is 

 gone, and the stillness reasserts itself. 



Night after night the stars shone; but early one 

 morning I was awakened by a singular pattering sound. 

 Yes, it was rain; was it going to continue or was it 

 merely a passing shower? Sleepily I surveyed the 

 heavens and pulled up the cravanette spread. Here 

 was another new experience. The rain had a grateful 

 scent of ferns in deep woods, of earth and of coolness. 

 Luckily this cloud passed over before doing any harm, 



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