A Live-oak grows by the shallow s… Rest under its boughs, I pray, And hear of the pirate—bold was he… And the lady he stole away. He was a black-browed buccaneer,

Your voice, beloved, on the living… Borne to me by the spirit powerful Who binds the atoms and leaps out… Great suns together! Ah, what mag… Strung for God’s fingers, sounds…

The patter of a baby’s feet Upon the floor, His babble at the door— Ah, these are sounds too sweet, to… Blue sky, save me from tears!

THE lady in front of me in the ca… With little red coils close over h… Is talking with her friend; And the circle of ostrich foam aro… Curving over like a wave,

FLOWER of the moon! Still white is her brow whom we wo… Yea, purer than pearls in deep sea… The dull years veil their eyes fro… Nor profane her with age—the immor…

What am I? I am Earth the mother… With all her nebulous memories; And the young Day, and Night her… And every god that was and is. As Eve I walked in paradise,

Moscow White Moscow of the pearly towers… And golden domes for praise, And chiming hours! Red Moscow of the Kremlin walls,

Sequoia, growing grandly Out of the long ago, Beloved of Time, whose sons March by to measures slow, How tenderly you cherish

In lazy laughing Panama— O flutter of ribbon 'twixt the sea… The low-roofed houses lie afloat, White foam-drift of the Caribbees… Under lithe palms that fan the sky

So light and soft the days fall— Like petals one by one Down from yon tree whose flowers a… Must vanish in the sun. Like almond-petals down, dear,

Prairie child, Brief as dew, What winds of wonder Nourished you? Rolling plains

Why do the wheels go whirring roun… Mother, mother? Oh, mother, are they giants bound, And will they growl forever? Yes, fiery giants underground,

Here you are, grand old sensualist… And here are the three goddesses displaying their charms to Paris. It was all one to you &mdash g… Your world was all curves of flesh

Hiding under the hill, Heavy with trailing robes and tang… Till only its little haggard face… The garden lay shy and wistful, Lovelorn for summer departing,

Poet, sing me a song to-day! But the world grows old and my hai… Ah no! there are birds on the lila… And a snow-drop out of the wet ear… Two chattering robins are planning…