free poem

arched the flood
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
like eagles on up high
be in me as the eternal moods
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
through the broad earth's aching breast
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
out of the window a sea of green trees
why are the things that have no death
i go my way complacently
i went up and down the streets
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree