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Le Cahier Jaune

Poems by Arthur Christopher Benson
  

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90

(1) ART.

To range abroad at will,
To pluck the flower and trace the woodland stream,
Sleep when I will, and when I sleep to dream,
Enfolding, gathering still;
To be at large and free,
To hover high, not wallow with the low;
No impulse to reject, no fear to know,
To learn humanity:
All day, and then at eve
To sort my prodigal spoil, and portion out
This medicine for despair and that for doubt,
Nought for myself to leave;
But give myself, the best
That I could fashion, giving self the rein;
Royally, recklessly, my joy, my pain;—
Then claim my sovereign rest.