Stepping Westward


The dewy ground was dark and cold
Behind, all gloomy to behold
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of heavenly destiny

I liked the greeting, it was a sound
Of something without place or bound
It gives me right,
Spiritual right
To travel through that region,
Region bright.

The voice was soft, and she who spake
Was walking by her native lake:
The salutation had to me
The very sound of courtesy

Its power was felt and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing sky,
The echo of the voice,
The voice enwrought
A human sweetness with,
With the thought
Of travelling through the world,
The world that lay
Before me in my endless,
Endless way...
...Endless way

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