Merryall land is in upper air.
People there
Follow an airy logic out of sight
Far out of compromise, into white light
Into bright danger.
                              What they do
Using their hands, following through
Circles of tasks, circles of plainest
Labor, gives the vainest
Cue to the roving courage of their days.
Habitual grasp of hands on worn tool-handles,
Feet finding, winter and summer old furrows and lanes,
Groove the mind deep and toughen to annual strength.
The grievance not solved in summer is solved often,
          at length
With a winter symbol; or summer thunder has
An answer for November agony.
Nothing can root them from the earth and they
Are therefore safe in audacity and serene.
— They being so worn, in the cold, thin
Unearthly air, are most beautiful in their discipline.
Like trees that have been polished by the wind.
And like hills, 
In everlasting sweetness and wide line
Poured on by rains.