How countlessly they congregate
O’er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as t
When wintry winds do blow!—
As if with keenness for our fate,

Sea waves are green and wet,
But up from where they die,
Rise others vaster yet,
And those are brown and dry.
They are the sea made land

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

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

What tree may not the fig be gathe
The grape may not be gathered from
It’s all you know the grape, or kn
As a girl gathered from the birch
Equally with my weight in grapes,

BROWN lived at such a lofty farm
That everyone for miles could see
His lantern when he did his chores
In winter after half-past three.
And many must have seen him make

I’ve known ere now an interfering
Of alder catch my lifted axe behin
But that was in the woods, to hold
From striking at another alder’s r
And that was, as I say, an alder

When the spent sun throws up its r
And goes down burning into the gul
No voice in nature is heard to cry
At what has happened. Birds, at l
It is the change to darkness in th

I stay;
But it isn’t as if
There wasn’t always Hudson’s Bay
And the fur trade,
A small skiff

It was far in the sameness of the
I was running with joy on the Dem
Though I knew what I hunted was n
It was just as the light was begin
That I suddenly heard’—all I need