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by Ruby Archer

Oh, weariness of people
With smiling, empty face!
The savage in my heart rebels,
And feels all out of place.

Away with formal parlance
In farce of courtesy!
Let word of heart come unrestrained
In frank simplicity.

Oh, fie on fair words veiling
Hypocrisy and strife!
The very soul is worn by mere
Machinery of life.

Give me the forest rather,
At one with creatures wild;
To walk in kindly Nature's halls,
And be her simple child.

For what I hear in silence
Is better far than words;
No fret of what availeth not
Among the leaves and birds.

To see with clearer vision,
To feel with quickened sense,
To know that God-ward all is well,—
Behold my recompense!