L'ENVOI.
For fame I ask not.
For gold I care not.
I am weary and would rest
In the old child-nest.
I would lie down, heart to heart,
O the old earth's heart—
I would wander off and be
With the olden mystery.
I would hear,
From the pea-field, sweet and clear,
Old bobwhite's whistle in my ear;
And the blackbird
Choir burst again
Into the strain
The world-free spirit heard.
I would go out there, and gaze
Through the haze
That comes drifting o'er the skies
When the sunshine dies,
And watch night
Kiss to sleep the tired eyes of light.
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