by: Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)

      s sweet as the look of a lover
      Saluting the eyes of a maid,
      That blossom to blue as the maid
      Is ablush to the glances above her,
      The sunshine is gilding the glade
      And lifting the lark out of shade.

      Sing therefore high praises, and therefore
      Sing songs that are ancient as gold,
      Of Earth in her garments of gold;
      Nor ask of their meaning, nor wherefore
      They charm as of yore, for behold!
      The Earth is as fair as of old.

      Sing songs of the pride of the mountains,
      And songs of the strength of the seas,
      And the fountains that fall to the seas
      From the hands of the hills, and the fountains
      That shine in the temples of trees,
      In valleys of roses and bees.

      Sing songs that are dreamy and tender,
      Of slender Arabian palms,
      And shadows that circle the palms,
      Where caravans, veiled from the splendor,
      Are kneeling in blossoms and balms,
      In islands of infinite calms.

      Barbaric, O Man, was thy runing
      When mountains were stained as with wine
      By the dawning of Time, and as wine
      Were the seas, yet its echoes are crooning,
      Achant in the gusty pine
      And the pulse of the poet's line.

"Geotheos" is reprinted from Shapes of Clay. Ambrose Bierce. San Francisco: W. E. Wood, 1903.




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