Evening Star

Let the world rock on, its turmoil never ceasing,
If we may have that one bright ray of heaven-inspired light,
If beauty and tranquility our pent-up tears releasing
The everlasting wonder of that first white star of night.

Like a symphony of the masters, timidly transcendent,
In the afterglow of sunset, softly, bravely glowing;
Then, encouraged by increasing darkness, coming forth resplendent,
The benediction of the Lord on all below bestowing.

January 25, 1942


Windows at Night

I like to go walking at night
When lights are beginning to glow
In windows of all the small houses
Or large ones, wherever I go.

But I do hate to see shades pulled,
As if there were something to hide.
I like to see lamps, chairs, and people
And happiness on the inside.

For lighted windows are friendly
But shaded ones turn you away,
Closing their eyes to their neighbors
And the lovely departing day.

So if you think I might pass
Your house some summer night,
Leave your shade up and be friendly
When you turn on your light.

April 30, 1939


Have you sat in a car on a Saturday night
Parked on some main street
And watched the ceaseless, endless procession
Of the many kinds of feet?

Light feet, gay feet, and some that are sad,
Old feet that slowly plod,
Young feet, bare feet, feet that have been far,
And feet expensively shod.

Handsome feet, ugly feet, eager, and tired,
Feet that are down at the heels;
Watch all the feet, and somehow you can tell
What each owner of them feels.

May 30, 1937

Hitch Hikers

They stood on the corner and waited long,
Forlorn, unwanted, amid the throng
Of automobiles that passed them by
Nor heeded the glance of their watchful eye.
They hail the driver of each car that comes
With lifted arms and extended thumbs,
But no one offers the longed-for ride
Because of fear or wealth or pride.
Their plight can be likened, I think, somehow,
To the businessman who furrows his brow
Nor gets anywhere in this whole world wide
Till someone more fortunate offers a ride.

August 1, 1937