Afield at dusk
What things for dream there are wh
Moving amond tall haycocks lightly
I enter alone upon the stubbled fi
From which the laborers’ voices la

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.

Come with rain, O loud Southweste
Bring the singer, bring the nester
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snow—bank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;

When I was young my teachers were
I gave up fire for form till I wa
I suffered like a metal being cast
I went to school to age to learn t
Now when I am old my teachers are

As I went down the hill along the
There was a gate I had leaned at
And had just turned from when I f
As you came up the hill. We met.
We did that day was mingle great a

The three stood listening to a fre
Of wind that caught against the ho
Gulped snow, and then blew free ag
Dressed, but dishevelled from some
Meserve belittled in the great ski

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,

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

The bear puts both arms around the
And draws it down as if it were a
And its choke cherries lips to kis
Then lets it snap back upright in
Her next step rocks a boulder on t

He gave the solid rail a hateful k
From far away there came an answer
And then another tick. He knew th
His hate had roused an engine up t
He wished when he had had the trac