le clerks with brilliant neckties, and cheap serge suits,
Steering girls by the arm, clerks, too,
Pretty and slim and smart,
Even to yellow kid boots, laced up behind.

They take the electric cars far into the country,
They descend, gaily chattering, at the Amusement Park.
Under the trees they eat the lunch they have carried--
Salad, sausages, sandwiches, candy, warm beer.
They ride in the roller-coaster, two in a seat,
(Glorious danger! Warm, delicious proximity!)
The unaccustomed beer floods their veins like heady wine,
And smothered youth awakens with shrill screams of joy.

The sun sets, and evening is drowned in electric lights;
Arm-in-arm, they wander under the trees
Everywhere meeting others, wandering arm-in-arm
In the same wistful wonder, seeking they know not what.

Two leave the park and the crowds--The stars shine out,
A river runs at their feet, behind them, a leafy copse,
Away on the other shore, the fields of grain
Lie sleeping peacefully in the starlight.
Tonight the world is theirs, a legacy
From those who lived familiar friends with river, field and forest--
Their forebears.

Through the night, the same earth-magic moves them
Which swayed those ancient ones, long-dead--
And these, too, lean and drink,
Drink deeply from the river, the flowing river of life.

Slowly they return to the crowds and the brilliant lights,
Dazzled, they look aside, silently climb on the cars.
They cling to the swaying straps, weary, inert, confused.
The lurching ear makes halt--they are thrown in each others' arms--
Alien and unmoved, they sway apart again--
The car moves through the fields and suburbs back to the town.

They leave the car in pairs, the picnic basket's
Rattling dismally, plate and spoon and jar.
The boy takes his girl to her lodgings in awkward silence.

They look askance--"Good-night!"--the front door closes,
Indeed their eyes have not met, since by the river
Those wondrous moments
Linked them to earth and night, not to each other.

IV. INTERLUDE

Mountain Trails
(GLACIER PARK, SEPT. '17)

I

Night stands in the valley
Her head
Is bound with stars,
While Dawn, a grey-eyed nun
Steals through the silent trees.
Behind the mountains
Morning shouts and sings
And dances upward.

II

The peaks even today show finger prints
Where God last touched the earth
Before he set it joyo