All out of doors looked darkly in
Through the thin frost, almost in
That gathers on the pane in empty
What kept his eyes from giving bac
Was the lamp tilted near them in h

NOW that they’ve got it settled w
I’m going to tell them something t
They’ve got it settled wrong, and
Flattered I must be to have two t
To make a present of me to each ot

A saturated meadow,
Sun—shaped and jewel—small,
A circle scarcely wider
Than the trees around were tall;
Where winds were quite excluded,

The line—storm clouds fly tattered
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones
And the hoof—prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for

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

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-

Now close the windows and hush all
If the trees must, let them silent
No bird is singing in them now, an
Be it my loss.
It will be long ere the marshes re

All crying, ‘We will go with you,
The foliage follow him, leaf and s
But a sleep oppresses them as they
And they end by bidding them as th
And they end by bidding him stay w

‘Fred, where is north?’
‘North? North is there, my love.
The brook runs west.’
‘West—running Brook then call it.
(West—Running Brook men call it t

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