It’s a long, long way to the count… I wade and splash in the creek; And a long, long way to the Fernc… The Fair where I was last week: It’s a long, long way to the end o…

Within the hollowed hand of God, Blood-red they lie, the dice of fa… That have no time nor period, And know no early and no late. Postpone you can not, nor advance

Before I found her I had found Within my heart, as in a brook, Reflections of her: now a sound Of imaged beauty; now a look. So when I found her, gazing in

Here is a tale for spinsters at th… There was a goose, a little goslin… Who went her goose-girl way and lo… As every goose should when ’tis wi… Proper was she as every gosling sh…

On the barren hillside lone he sat… On his head he wore a tattered hat… In his hand he bore a crooked staf… Never heard I laughter like his l… On the barren hillside, thistle-ho…

She walks the woods, when evening… With spirits of the winds and leav… And to her side the soul she calls Of every flower she perceives. She walks with introspective eyes

One tree, storm-twisted, like an e… The sea-wind in its hair, beside a… Waves frantic arms, as if in wild-… At all the world. Gigantic, grey… Great boulders shoulder through th…

The tripod flared with a purple sp… And the mist hung emerald in the d… Now he stooped to the lilac flame Over the glare of the amber embers… Thrice to utter no earthly name;

Out of the East, as from an unkno… Thou comest with thy children in t… Slumber and Dream, whom mortals a… Their flowing raiment sculptured t… Soft on thy breast thy lovely chil…

Not into these dark cities, These sordid marts and streets, That the sun in his rising pities, And the moon with sorrow greets, Does she, with her dreams and flow…

From morn till noon upon the windo… The tempest tapped with rainy fing… And all the afternoon the blusteri… Beat at the door with furious feet… The rose, near which the lily bloo…

Globed in Heav’n’s tree of azure,… As some round apple hung High in hesperian boughs, thou han… The branch-like mists among: Within thy light a sunburnt youth,…

Bird, with the voice of gold, Dropping wild bar on bar, To which the flowers unfold, Star upon gleaming star, Here in the forest old:

GREEN, watery jets of light let… The rippling foliage drenched with… And golden glimmers, warm and dim, That in the vistaed distance swim; Where, 'round the wood-spring’s oo…

The locust builds its are of sound And tops it with a spire; The roadside leaves pant to the gr… With dust from hoof and tire. The insects, day and night, make d…