Love and forgetting might have car
A little further up the mountain s
With night so near, but not much f
They must have halted soon in any
With thoughts of a path back, how

(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

Dust always blowing about the town
Except when sea—fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children tol
Some of the blowing dust was gold.
All the dust the wind blew high

The battle rent a cobweb diamond-s
And cut a flower beside a ground b
Before it stained a single human b
The stricken flower bent double an
And still the bird revisited her y

‘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

Never have I been glad or sad
That there was such a thing as bad
There had to be, I understood,
For there to have been any good.
It was by having been contrasted

“You ought to have seen what I sa
To the village, through Mortenson
Blueberries as big as the end of y
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and read
In the cavernous pail of the first

Whose woods these are I think I k
His house is in the village, thoug
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with sn
My little horse must think it quee

ALWAYS the same, when on a fate
At last the gathered snow lets dow
As may be in dark woods, and with
It shall not make again all winter
Of hissing on the yet uncovered gr

Two roads diverged in a yellow woo
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I c
To where it bent in the undergrowt