Nature

Here, where the World Is quiet There, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' Riot In time dreams of dreams; I watch the green field Growing for keeping dirt Fresh and sowing, Harvest Season and mowing, a sleeply Nature of tears and laughter, A Poet writes that word of Intelligent may come Naturely I am reading books of Days Experience desires and dreams And powers and everything Only art here Life has Nature For neighbor and far from Poetry or best wan waves and Wet rain labor winds strong Ships and spirits steer; they Drive a drift, and whither wot Not who make thither; Nature Sweet hither, pale, without Name or number In fruitless Fields of corn all Night till Good light Is Born.