As I came to the edge of the wood
Thrush music —hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird

More than halfway up the pass
Was a spring with a broken drinkin
And whether the farmer drank or no
His mare was sure to observe the s
By cramping the wheel on a water-b

But outer Space,
At least this far,
For all the fuss
Of the populace
Stays more popular

Blood has been harder to dam back
Just when we think we have it impo
Behind new barrier walls (and let
It breaks away in some new kind of
We choose to say it is let loose b

There is a singer everyone has hea
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood
Who makes the solid tree trunks so
He says that leaves are old and th
Mid-summer is to spring as one to

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.

Afield at dusk
What things for dream there are wh
Moving amond tall haycocks lightly
I enter alone upon the stubbled fi
From which the laborers’ voices la

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

We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone find us really out.
'Tis pity if the case require

I Dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar w
And a cellar in which the daylight
And the purple-stemmed wild raspbe