Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)/Barrier
BARRIERTHE "BAD LANDS"
The long, low, level hills against the sky,—they call a halt:
The barrier of the world. Thus far, no farther, shall ye go.
The rest is all unfinished.
Beyond, there is a place where winds are made,
And sometimes one escapes and whirls its way in ruthless wrack
Down through the haunts of Man. Approach the barrier not,
The earth is torn in wreaths and mounds, and hot,—
The fires are near.
No footstep must approach the barrier wall
Lest looking over one discover all.
The barrier of the world. Thus far, no farther, shall ye go.
The rest is all unfinished.
Beyond, there is a place where winds are made,
And sometimes one escapes and whirls its way in ruthless wrack
Down through the haunts of Man. Approach the barrier not,
The earth is torn in wreaths and mounds, and hot,—
The fires are near.
No footstep must approach the barrier wall
Lest looking over one discover all.