For The Brthday Of James Whitco… LOCKERBIE STREET is a littl… Just one block long; But the days go there with a magic… The whole year long.

NOW the fire is lighted On the chimney stone, Day goes down the valley, I am left alone. Now the misty purple

I SEE the great blue heron Rising among the reeds And floating down the wind, Like a gliding sail With the set of the stream.

A Threnody for Robert Louis Stev… COLD, the dull cold! What ails t… And takes the heart out of the day… What makes the morning look so mea… The Common so forlorn and gray?

THE fireflies across the dusk Are flashing signals through the g… Courageous messengers of light That dare immensities of doom. About the seeding meadow-grass,

Wind of the dead men’s feet, Blow down the empty street Of this old city by the sea With news for me! Blow me beyond the grime

HERE we came when love was young… Now that love is old, Shall we leave the floor unswept And the hearth acold? Here the hill-wind in the dusk,

NOW the joys of the road are chie… A crimson touch on the hard-wood t… A vagrant’s morning wide and blue, In early fall, when the wind walks… A shadowy highway cool and brown,

Time out of mind I have stood Fronting the frost and the sun, That the dream of the world might… And the goodly will be done. Did the hand of the builder guess,

(Sappho XXIII) I loved thee, Atthis, in the long… When the great oleanders were in f… In the broad herded meadows full o… And we would often at the fall of…

Where are the ships I used to kno… That came to port on the Fundy ti… Half a century ago, In beauty and stately pride? In they would come past the beacon…

NOW soon, ah, very soon, I know The trumpets of the north will blo… And the great winds will come to b… The pale wild riders of the snow. Darkening the sun with level fligh…

IN the Garden of Eden, planted b… There were goodly trees in the spr… Trees of beauty and height and gra… To stand in splendor before His f… Apple and hickory, ash and pear,

NOW the little rivers go Muffled safely under snow, And the winding meadow streams Murmur in their wintry dreams, While a tinkling music wells