I have been one acquainted with th
I have walked out in rain—and back
I have outwalked the furthest city
I have looked down the saddest cit
I have passed by the watchman on h

I went to turn the grass once afte
Who mowed it in the dew before the
The dew was gone that made his bla
Before I came to view the levelle
I looked for him behind an isle of

There overtook me and drew me in
To his down-hill, early-morning st
And set me five miles on my road
Better than if he had had me ride,
A man with a swinging bag for’load

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such t
For Thought has a pair of dauntle

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

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

HERE come the line-gang pioneeri
They throw a forest down less cut
They plant dead trees for living,
They string together with a living
They string an instrument against

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,

Why make so much of fragmentary bl
In here and there a bird, or butte
Or flower, or wearing—stone, or op
When heaven presents in sheets the
Since earth is earth, perhaps, not

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