William Herbert Carruth


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Best Poem of William Herbert Carruth

Each In His Own Tongue

A fire-mist and a planet,
A crystal and a cell,
A jelly-fish and a saurian,
And caves where the cave-men dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty
And a face turned from the clod -
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.

A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe rich tint of the cornfileds,
And the wild geese sailing high -
And all over upland and lowland
The charm of the golden-rod -
Some of us call it Autumn
And others call it God.

Like tides on a crescent sea-beach,
When the moon is new and thin, ...

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