Once I lived in the city;
I loved the hurry of feet,
The hours crowded with work and play,
The kaleidoscope of the street.
Once I lived in the mountains.
Once I lived by the sea.
The hills I loved for their steadfast peace,
The sea, because it was free.
But now I live on the golden plain,
Nobody else near by,
And oh, I love it the best of all
For I love and live with the sky.
How can I tell its beauty?
Which of its moods is best?
It makes me small as a pygmy,
It swells the heart in my breast.
By day it's a painted pageant.
God sketches its mighty bowl
With themes in cloud and in color
To match every tint of the soul.
At night, I look up in the zenith.
Far as the eye can see
Are spaces . . . and stars . . . and silence . . .
Types of infinity.
Oh, I love both mountain and city,
Oh I left the sea with a sigh,
But I know I am nearest Heaven
On the plain, alone with the sky.
__May Willams Ward.
May Williams Ward
(Atlanta: The Bozart Press. 1929)
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