I have wished a bird would fly awa
And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from
When it seemed as if I could bear
The fault must partly have been in

Something there is that doesn’t lo
That sends the frozen—ground—swell
And spills the upper boulders in t
And makes gaps even two can pass a
The work of hunters is another thi

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

Some say the world will end in fir
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if I had to perish twice,

There overtook me and drew me in
To his down-hill, early-morning st
And set me five miles on my road
Better than if he had had me ride,
A man with a swinging bag for’load

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

(To hear us talk)
The tree the tempest with a crash
Throws down in front of us is not
Our passage to our journey’s end f
But just to ask us who we think we

There is a singer everyone has hea
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood
Who makes the solid tree trunks so
He says that leaves are old and th
Mid-summer is to spring as one to

We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone find us really out.
'Tis pity if the case require

The rain to the wind said,
'You push and I’ll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged - though not dead.