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

There’s a place called Far-away M
We never shall mow in again,
Or such is the talk at the farmhou
The meadow is finished with men.
Then now is the chance for the flo

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

These pools that, though in forest
The total sky almost without defec
And like the flowers beside them,
Will like the flowers beside them
And yet not out by any brook or ri

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

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

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

There were three in the meadow by
Gathering up windrows, piling cock
With an eye always lifted toward t
Where an irregular sun—bordered cl
Darkly advanced with a perpetual d

The sentencing goes blithely on it
And takes the playfully objected r
As surely as it takes the stroke a
In having its undeviable say.

It was far in the sameness of the
I was running with joy on the Dem
Though I knew what I hunted was n
It was just as the light was begin
That I suddenly heard’—all I need