THE BUZZ-SAW snarled and ratt
And made dust and dropped stove-le
Sweet-scented stuff when the breez
And from there those that lifted e
Five mountain ranges one behind th

When I spread out my hand here to
I catch no more than a ray
To feel of between thumb and finge
No lasting effect of it lingers.
There was one time and only the on

Oh, give us pleasure in the flower
And give us not to think so far aw
As the uncertain harvest; keep us
All simply in the springing of the
Oh, gives us pleasure in the orcha

Old Davis owned a solid mica moun
In Dalton that would someday make
There’d been some Boston people o
And experts said that deep down in
The mica sheets were big as plate-

We dance round in a ring and suppo
But the Secret sits in the middle

The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hil
The graveyard draws the living sti
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:

The west was getting out of gold,
The breath of air had died of cold
When shoeing home across the white
I thought I saw a bird alight.
In summer when I passed the place

It is blue-butterfly day here in s
And with these sky-flakes down in
There is more unmixed color on the
Than flowers will show for days un
But these are flowers that fly and

Her Word
One ought not to have to care
So much as you and I
Care when the birds come round the
To seem to say good—bye;

More than halfway up the pass
Was a spring with a broken drinkin
And whether the farmer drank or no
His mare was sure to observe the s
By cramping the wheel on a water-b