 | The candle in the cabin |  |
94
THE TIME WHEN THINGS HAD BETTER NAMES
The Forest-Ranger's Honeymoon
These flowers and beasts and birds and trees,
Mountains and bees,
Have not the splendid names
They once had long ago,
When you and I sat round the fire,
Our twelve strong sons there in a row,
Centuries ago.
They brought new names
For each new thing
They brought into the campfire ring,
Words our eldest son, the poet,
Then began to sing.
We wove those names into a world,
Centuries ago.
Mountains and bees,
Have not the splendid names
They once had long ago,
When you and I sat round the fire,
Our twelve strong sons there in a row,
Centuries ago.
They brought new names
For each new thing
They brought into the campfire ring,
Words our eldest son, the poet,
Then began to sing.
We wove those names into a world,
Centuries ago.
These rocks and lakes are much the same,
But the old names pass.
We had better names for rivers,
And for the white bear grass.
We had better names for every mountain
And for every tree.
But the old names pass.
We had better names for rivers,
And for the white bear grass.
We had better names for every mountain
And for every tree.
We almost hear them in the night,
Alone by candlelight.
If we wait here by the light,
The names may come to you and me.
Elusive now, hiding now,
The dawn may set them free,
And bring those twelve strong sons
And the eldest son, the singing chieftain,
Back to you and me.
Alone by candlelight.
95
The names may come to you and me.
Elusive now, hiding now,
The dawn may set them free,
And bring those twelve strong sons
And the eldest son, the singing chieftain,
Back to you and me.
| The candle in the cabin | |