#1928 #AmericanWriters #WestRunningBrook
I went to turn the grass once afte… Who mowed it in the dew before the… The dew was gone that made his bla… Before I came to view the levelle… I looked for him behind an isle of…
I have been one acquainted with th… I have walked out in rain—and back… I have outwalked the furthest city… I have looked down the saddest cit… I have passed by the watchman on h…
She is as in a field a silken tent At midday when the sunny summer br… Has dried the dew and all its rope… So that in guys it gently sways at… And its supporting central cedar p…
The white-tailed hornet lives in a… That floats against the ceiling of… The exit he comes out at like a bu… Is like the pupil of a pointed gun… And having power to change his aim…
Some of you will be glad I did wh… And the rest won’t want to punish… For finding a thing to do that tho… Yet wasn’t enjoined and wasn’t exp… To punish me over cruelly wouldn’t…
Lovers, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil
‘Fred, where is north?’ ‘North? North is there, my love. The brook runs west.’ ‘West—running Brook then call it.… (West—Running Brook men call it t…
The last step taken found your hef… Decidedly upon the left. One more would throw you on the ri… Another still—you see your plight. You call this thinking, but it’s w…
The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart
I had for my winter evening walk— No one at all with whom to talk, But I had the cottages in a row Up to their shining eyes in snow. And I thought I had the folk with…
To think to know the country and n… The hillside on the day the sun le… Ten million silver lizards out of… As often as I’ve seen it done bef… I can’t pretend to tell the way it…
Once when the snow of the year was… We stopped by a mountain pasture t… A little Morgan had one forefoot… The other curled at his breast. H… And snorted at us. And then he ha…
Oh, stormy stormy world, The days you were not swirled Around with mist and cloud, Or wrapped as in a shroud, And the sun’s brilliant ball
The little old house was out with… In front at the edge of the road w… A roadside stand that too pathetic… It would not be fair to say for a… But for some of the money, the cas…
They leave us so to the way we too…