Others taunt me with having knelt
Always wrong to the light, so neve
Deeper down in the well than where
Gives me back in a shining surface
Me myself in the summer heaven god

THERE’S a patch of old snow in
That I should have guessed
Was a blow—away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.
It is speckled with grime as if

We chanced in passing by that afte
To catch it in a sort of special p
Among tar-banded ancient cherry tr
Set well back from the road in ran
The little cottage we were speakin

Out walking in the frozen swamp on
I paused and said, 'I will turn b
No, I will go on farther—and we s
The hard snow held me, save where
One foot went through. The view w

I slumbered with your poems on my
Spread open as I dropped them hal
Like dove wings on a figure on a t
To see, if in a dream they brought
I might not have the chance I mis

Something inspires the only cow of
To make no more of a wall than an
And think no more of wall-builders
Her face is flecked with pomace an
A cider syrup. Having tasted frui

When a friend calls to me from the
And slows his horse to a meaning w
I don’t stand still and look aroun
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What i

“Willis, I didn’t want you here t
The lawyer’s coming for the compan
I’m going to sell my soul, or, rat
Five hundred dollars for the pair,
“With you the feet have nearly bee

Something inspires the only cow of
To make no more of a wall than an
And think no more of wall—builders
Her face is flecked with pomace an
A cider syrup. Having tasted frui

Where had I heard this wind befor
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing the
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shor