Rachel Garone Miller

All round is haste, confusion, noise.
For power and wealth men stretch the day
From dawn till dusk.
But quietly I go my way.

For glitter, show, to taunt the crowd,
Desire-tossed in wild dismay,
Men sell their souls.
But quietly I go my way.

The green of all the fields is mine;
The stars, the night, the wind at play,
A peaceful heart, while quietly
I go my way.

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