Stay clear of Lake Superior,
go light in the Sea of Fears,
be still as a hint at Rushing Creek
and long in the Zaire,
behold the gold at Crater Lake,
be hushed at Puget Sound,
go crooked through the Bering Strait
where all the sails fall down—
and should the falcon come to you
with ribbons in her beak,
then don’t forget to count your sheep
and all the sounds and all the seas
that you have known before you fall asleep.
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Fare thee well
This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 32 Number 3, on page 28
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