O Mother Earth, I Have A Fear Which I Would Tell To Thee-- Softly And Gently In Thine Ear When The Moon And We Are Three. Thy Grass And Flowers Are Beautiful; Among Thy Trees I Hide; And Underneath The Moonlight Cool Thy Sea Looks Broad And Wide; But This I Fear--Lest Thou Shouldst Grow To Me So Small And Strange, So Distant I Should Never Know On Thee A Shade Of Change, Although Great Earthquakes Should Uplift Deep Mountains From Their Base, And Thy Continual Motion Shift The Lands Upon Thy Face;-- The Grass, The Flowers, The Dews That Lie Upon Them As Before-- Driven Upwards Evermore, Lest I Should Love These Things No More. Even Now Thou Dimly Hast A Place In Deep Star Galaxies! And I, Driven Ever On Through Space, Have Lost Thee In The Skies!