A scent of ripeness from over a wa
And come to leave the routine road
And look for what had made me stal
There sure enough was an apple tre
That had eased itself of its summe

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,

Out through the fields and the woo
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and desce
I have come by the highway home,

Sea waves are green and wet,
But up from where they die,
Rise others vaster yet,
And those are brown and dry.
They are the sea made land

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;

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,

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

The land was ours before we were t
She was our land more than a hundr
Before we were her people. She wa
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England’s, still colo

A dented spider like a snow drop w
On a white Heal-all, holding up a
Like a white piece of lifeless sat
Saw ever curious eye so strange a
Portent in little, assorted death

I’m going out to clean the pasture
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves
(And wait to watch the water clear
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come
I’m going out to fetch the little