The Whitman/Hopkins Mash Up

Through the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,

As king fishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;

late of a winter night--And I unremark'd seated in a corner;

When the air was sweet-and-sour of the flown fineflower

what I said to you in the open air I resume:
I know I am restless, and make others so;

I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail,
And a few lilies blow.

A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away. 

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say

Thou that on sin's wages starvest, 
Behold we have the joy in harvest:

Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing,

pondering the themes thou lovest best.
Night, sleep, and the stars.

there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?