To Ridgely Torrence On Last Looking into His ‘Hesperides’ I often see flowers from a passing car That are gone before I can tell what they are. I want to…

I have wished a bird would fly away, And not sing by my house all day; Have clapped my hands at him from the door When it seemed as if…

When I go up through the mowing field, The headless aftermath, Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew, Half closes the garden path. And when I come to the garden…

Lancaster bore him–such a little town, Such a great man. It doesn’t see him often Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead And sends the children down there…

To think to know the country and now know The hillside on the day the sun lets go Ten million silver lizards out of snow! As often as I’ve seen…

A NEIGHBOR of mine in the village Likes to tell how one spring When she was a girl on the farm, she did A childlike thing. One day she asked…

Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain In Dalton that would someday make his fortune. There’d been some Boston people out to see it: And experts said that deep down…

I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and…

There sandy seems the golden sky And golden seems the sandy plain. No habitation meets the eye Unless in the horizon rim, Some halfway up the limestone wall, That spot…

The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. But what about the brook That held the house as…

He halted in the wind, and–what was that Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? He stood there bringing March against his thought, And yet too ready to…

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it. And from there those that…