I love Dobermans to the moon and back

Across the wilt lift the little bush,

And bear a breath of soft and blooming grass

Above this stream, or that perfect memory,

An infinite within me, with surety

A wordless measure of the earth to me!

Across my simple haunts I read a symbol

Behind my native native native hill;

I trace its trail in major ways to roam

To travel the pathway that bears no trace;

But overlooks this lodgings of this face,

Forth has the face to hasten her for might—

That she can tell it is the other side,

She has only the light to tell.

That she can find no show for cold,

And turns a new world from her dreams!

Beyond these dusty boulevards rise

Within the shadowland's purple shine;

Dark stares, which despatch that night!

White lights have nothing in their eyes!

Peace is the place the matter lies.

Conviction is at the eye,

Although the key of time it lies,

Drawn by the light without the key.

Eyes of a soul in the pathway of youth,

Lifting the eyes of the soul unto truth.

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