O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the doting

                  fingers of
prurient philosophies pinched
and poked

thee
, has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

                  beauty    . how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy
knees squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
            (but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

                        thou answerest

them only with

                              spring)

Published in The Dial Volume LXVIII, Number 5 (May 1920).
New York: The Dial Publishing Company, Inc.

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