When you had come through Kansas
To your New Hampshire hills,
Their roundnesses, their cloistered roads,
Their sharpnesses, their rills.
An empty area, nothing else,
These reaches seemed to you;
But here in Kansas where you were
I am in Grenstone too,
And yet not out of Kansas
No matter where I go--
For I will add to my own land now
This easy ample flow,
Will add to my New England
This openness as clear
On earth as it is in heaven,
No hills to interfere.
Wave after wave in Kansas
A wisdom comes to me
From the levels of the world,
Consoling as the sea.
