At the moon’s down-going let it be On the quarry hill with its one gn… The red-rock road of the underbrus… Where the woman came through the s… The sumac high and the elder thick…

I saw the spirit of the pines that… With spirits of the ocean and the… Against the tumult rose its tatter… Wild rain and darkness round it li… Fearful it stood, limbed like some…

Withered and gray as winter; gnarl… With bony hands he crouches by the… His beggar’s coat is patched and w… Rags are his shoes: clutched in hi… A chest he hugs wherein he hoards…

He lived beyond men, and so stood Admitted to the brotherhood Of beauty:-dreams, with which he t… Companioned like some sylvan god. And oft men wondered, when his tho…

Here where a tree and its wild lia… Leaning over the streamlet, grow, Once a nymph, like the moon’d Dia… Sat in the ages long ago. Sat with a mortal. with whom she h…

Pessimist There is never a thing we dream or… But was dreamed and done in the ag… Everything’s old; there is nothing… And so it will be while the world…

Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks and fumbles and knocks agai… His long-nailed fingers slip and s… Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks all night but knocks in vai…

‘Trees,’ so he said and laid him l… At a great beech-tree’s root, ‘are… Upon their love it seems my life d… No dog or woman for me! Give me a… In winter saying, ’ Courage! hold…

Wild son of Heav’n, with laughter… Now East, now West, now North, n… Bearing in one harsh hand dark dea… And in the other, sunshine and a r…

The roses mourn for her who sleeps Within the tomb; For her each lily-flower weeps Dew and perfume. In each neglected flower-bed

The teasel and the horsemint sprea… The hillside as with sunset, sown With blossoms, o’er the Standing-… That ripples in its rocky bed: There are no treasuries that hold

Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow, Haunts of the bee and swallow?

She came through shade and shine, By scarlet trumpetvine And fragrant buttonbush, That heaped the wayside hush And oh!

There was moonlight in the garden… There was scent of pink and peony… When adown the pathway whitely, wh… She came stepping, oh, so lightly, To the old gate made of pickets.

How good it is, when overwrought, To seek the woods and find a thoug… That to the soul’s attentive sense Delivers much in evidence Of truths for which man long has s…