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Wilderness Is Paradise Enow[1]

Hold Intercourse with Roots of Trees and Stones,

With Rivers at the Source and Disembodied Bones[2]

To Him who in the Love of Nature holds Communion

With her Visible Forms – she speaks a Various Language[3]

I’m more at Home here among the Birds and the Flowers and the Wind[4]

What has made the Sage or Poet Write but the Fair Paradise of Nature’s Light[5]

His Legs will take Root and his Fingers will Shoot and Blossom and Bud like a Fruit Tree[6]

The Sun and the River and the Knee and the Person are All One – they’re Inseparable[7]

The Pine-Tree Sweetens my Body – the White Iris Beautifies me[8]

The Inner – What is it? Intensified Sky, Hurled through

With Birds and Deep with the Winds of Homecoming[9]

Earth is Beautiful Beyond All Change[10]

[1] Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, Edward Fitzgerald

[2] Elinor Wylie, The Eagle and the Mole

[3] William Cullen Bryant, Thana­topsis

[4] Ernest Lehman, The Sound of Music

[5] John Keats, I Stood Tip-Toe upon a Little Hill

[6] Sir W.S. Gilbert, Nightmare

[7] Maria Popova, Why Poetry, Why Now

[8] Wallace Stevens, In the Carolinas

[9] Rainer Maria Rilke, Ah, Not To Be Cut Off

[10] William Bronk, Midsummer

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