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44 | In This Our World Pioneers Long have we sung our noble pioneers, Vanguard of progress, heralds of the time, Guardians of industry and art sublime, Leaders of man down all the brightening years! To them the danger, to their wives the tears While we sit safely in the city’s grime, In old-world trammels of distress and crime, Playing with words and thoughts, with doubts and fears. Children of axe and gun! Ye take to-day The baby steps of man’s first, feeblest age, While we, thought-seekers of the printed page, We lead the world down its untrodden way! Ours the drear wastes and leagues of empty waves, The lonely deaths, the undiscovered graves. Exiles Exiled from home. The far sea rolls Between them and the country of their birth; The childhood-turning impulse of their souls Pulls half across the earth. Exiled from home. No mother to take care That they work not too hard, grieve not too sore; No older brother nor small sister fair; No father any more. Exiled from home; from all familiar things; The low-browed roof, the grass-surrounded door; Accustomed labors that gave daylight wings; Loved steps on the worn floor. Exiled from home. Young girls sent forth alone When most their hearts need close companioning; No love and hardly friendship may they own, No voice of welcoming. Blinded with homesick tears the exile stands; To toil for alien household gods she comes; A servant and a stranger in our lands, Homeless within our homes. A Nevada Desert31 An aching, blinding, barren, endless plain, Corpse-colored with white mould of alkali, Hairy with sage-brush, slimy after rain, ...

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