Can one resolve and hunt it from o… This love, this god and fiend, tha… Of many a life, in ways no tongue… No mind divine, nor any word impar… Would not one think the slights th…

Dull, dimly gleaming, The dawn looks downward Where, flowing townward, The river, steaming With mist, is hidden:

There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…

Once I found an ant-lion’s hole And an ant-lion in it: nippers Like a pair of rusty clippers. And I saw a red ant roll In its pit, and, quick as Ned,

With rod and line I took my way That led me through the gossip tre… Where all the forest was asway With hurry of the running breeze. I took my hat off to a flower

With eyes hand-arched he looks int… The morning’s face; then turns awa… With truant feet, all wet with dew… Out for a holiday. The hill brook sings; incessant st…

When by the wall the tiger-flower… A head of sultry slumber and aroma… And by the path, whereon the blown… Its obsolete beauty, the long lili… White place of perfume, like a bea…

She stood waist-deep among the bri… Above in twisted lengths were roll… The sunset’s tangled whorls of gol… Blown from the west’s cloud-pillar… And in the hush no sound did mar,

Was it a dream, Or a whim of the night? Or did they gleam Upon my sight An instant there in the wan moonli…

All hushed of glee, The last chill bee Clings wearily To the dying aster. The leaves dropp faster:

NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,

God made her body out of foam and… And for her hair the dawn and dark… Then called two planets from their… And in her face, divinely eloquent… Gave them a firmament.

Where rise the brakes of bramble t… Wrapped with the trailing rose; Through cane where waters ramble,… Where deep the sword-grass grows, Who knows?

A Far bell tinkles in the hollow, And heart and soul are fain to fol… Gone is the rose and gone the swal… Autumn is here. The wild geese draw at dusk their…

The tufted gold of the sassafras, And the gold of the spicewood-bush… Bewilder the ways of the forest pa… And brighten the underbrush: The white-starred drifts of the wi…