148

date: 1920-04-05

names-on-the-page: Mr. Yost; Dr. Robinson

transcription: April 5, 1920 - Page 8

Nor yet a shred from the garment
Of Eternity. Take faith then in Tomorrow!

Here she seemed to want to say something to Mr. Yost personally and she
said:

-Finished Labor-

What is thy question? Needst thou
Answer me. What is thy question?
The labor is done, a perfect thing.
He, the great God, likewise
Created day a perfect thing
And man doth not accept
Or thank. What matter then, beloved?

The following then came to Dr. Robinson:

-Through the Desert-

And the path led unto the desert.
Sands, sands, sands, sands.
And a vulture mayhap scrolling
The sky, lapping his wings lustfully
O'er carrion.

Sands, sands, sands, sands,
Forever sands and I weary,
Footsore. Yet, triumphant had I come
Unto the spot. Is this then the goal?
Sands, sands, sands, sands,
Sands and silence. Little grains
That quivered and slipped and cajoled
One the other in heat,
Arguing the instant hotter.
This then the goal and I weary.
And the desert stretching, stretching, stretching.

Naught but the troubled sands foretold
The passing of other caravans
Or a tribesman who halloed
To the East or cried backward
To the West or turned anguished
To the North or sought Southward.
Naught but the troubled sands
Stretching, stretching. When sudden,
A cloud cast a shadow, scarce bigger
Than a palm upon the golden sea
And I stopped, caught, following, following,
And the vultures flapped and the sun beat
And the sands became a tumult and my feet
Lagged with heaviness. Yet yon
Wert the shadow and I followed.

Con'd

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