American poet (1878-1960)
The yoke of beauty is easy to bear
Since I need not lay it down.
KARLE WILSON BAKER
"The Marching Mountains", Burning Bush
My years have limped; but I
Have tried so hard to fly!
And now, suppose Death brings
Gulls' wings
At last, for me to keep?
KARLE WILSON BAKER
"Alternatives", Burning Bush
God hangs my slatted cage, sometimes
On Skyey balconies of bloom;
He lifts my latch, some rainy days,
And lets me hop about His room;
But when, at last, He thinks it time
To tell me what the Others know,
He'll lift the window toward the hills
And let me go.
KARLE WILSON BAKER
"The Window", Burning Bush