People Who Leave Their Own Time Out

The Distant Soul Can Shake The Distant Friend's Soul And Make The Longing Felt, Over Untold Miles.

On The Long Dusty Ribbon Of The Long City Street, The Pageant Of Life Is Passing Me On Multitudinous Feet, With A Word Here Of The Hills, And A Song There Of The Sea And-the Great Movement Changes-the Pageant Passes Me.

It Is Too Maddening. I've Got To Fly Off, Right Now, To Some Devilish Navy Yard, 3 Hours In A Seasick Steamer, & After Being Heartily Sick, I'll Have To Speak 3 Times, & Then Be Sick Coming Home. Still, Who Would Not Be Sick For England?

The Corn That Makes The Holy Bread By Which The Soul Of Man Is Fed, The Holy Bread, The Food Unpriced, Thy Everlasting Mercy, Christ.

Only The Road And The Dawn, The Sun, The Wind, And The Rain, And The Watch Fire Under Stars, And Sleep, And The Road Again.