Night 'neath the northern skies, lone, black, and grim: <br />Naught but the starlight lies 'twixt heaven, and him. <br /> <br />Of man no need has he, of God, no prayer; <br />He and his Deity are brothers there. <br /> <br />Above his bivouac the firs fling down <br />Through branches gaunt and black, their needles brown. <br /> <br />Afar some mountain streams, rockbound and fleet, <br />Sing themselves through his dreams in cadence sweet, <br /> <br />The pine trees whispering, the heron's cry, <br />The plover's passing wing, his lullaby. <br /> <br />And blinking overhead the white stars keep <br />Watch o'er his hemlock bed--his sinless sleep.<br /><br />Emily Pauline Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-camper/
