With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…

Youth, with an arrogant air, Passes me by: Age, on his tottering staff, Stops with a sigh. ‘Here is a flower, ’he says,

Deep-hearted roses of the purple d… And lilies of the morn; And cactus, holding up a slender t… Of fragrance on a thorn; All heavy flowers, sultry with the…

Here is a tale for workmen and the… There was a torrent once that down… Flashed its resistless way; a foam… Basaltic-built, ‘twixt cataract-he… Down from its eagle eyrie nearer,…

Along the road I smelt the rose, The wild-rose in its veil of rain; And how it was, God only knows, But with its scent I saw again A girl’s face at a window-pane,

Athwart a sky of brass long welts… A path of gold the wide Ohio lies… Beneath the sunset, billowing mani… The dark-blue hilltops rise. And westward dips the crescent of…

Against the pane the darkness, wet… Pressed a wild face and raised a r… Of cloud, clothed on with thunder… And terrible with elemental gold. Above the fisher’s hut, beyond the…

Death rides black-masked to-night;… Madness beside him brandishes a to… The peaceful farmhouse with its vi… Lies in their way. Death lifts a… And knocks, and Madness makes a w…

On nights like this, when bayou an… Dream in the moonlight’s mystic ra… I seem to walk like one deep in a… With old-world myths born of the m… Lascivious eyes and mouths of sens…

Sylvan, they say, and nymph are go… And yet I saw the two last night, When overhead the moon sailed whit… And through the mists, her light m… Each bush and tree doffed its disg…

There is a poetry that speaks Through common things: the grassho… That in the hot weeds creaks and c… Says all of summer to my ear: And in the cricket’s cry I hear

She was strange as the orchids tha… And glimmer and shower their balm And bloom on the tropical ocean, That crystals round islands of pal… And she sang to and beckoned and b…

THERE is a house beside a way, Where dwells a ghost of Yesterday… The old face of a beauty, faded, Looks from its garden: and the sha… Long walks of locust-trees, that s…

Who is she, like the spring, who c… From the hills to the smoke-huddle… With her peach-petal face And her wildflower grace, Bringing sunshine and gladness to…

The memory of what we’ve lost Is with us more than what we’ve wo… Perhaps because we count the cost By what we could, yet have not don… ‘Twixt act and purpose fate hath d…