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Adelaide Crapsey - John-a-dream
Work rating: Low

A laggard in the rear of time`s swift feet, 

And one who loiters on an aimless way 

Through lands he knows not; lured by birds to stray 

In secret paths where silence holds the beat 

And rust ascending wings. Roads meet; 

He turns by hazard of some far-glimpsed spray 

Of blossoming tree. Shall condemnation say, 

Unprofitable! Empty thy days as fleet? 


Nay, if perchance he wanders Paradise, 

And in unhurried immortality, 

Treads child-like wise and ignorant the thrice 

Blessed, ultimate regions of the throne of God? 

Then needs he not to fear who walks the sod 

Of Heain angels` radiant company.
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