NOW that they’ve got it settled w
I’m going to tell them something t
They’ve got it settled wrong, and
Flattered I must be to have two t
To make a present of me to each ot

The line—storm clouds fly tattered
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones
And the hoof—prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for

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

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

EVEN the bravest that are slain
Shall not dissemble their surprise
On waking to find valor reign,
Even as on earth, in paradise;
And where they sought without the

Pan came out of the woods one day,

When I was young my teachers were
I gave up fire for form till I wa
I suffered like a metal being cast
I went to school to age to learn t
Now when I am old my teachers are

When the spent sun throws up its r
And goes down burning into the gul
No voice in nature is heard to cry
At what has happened. Birds, at l
It is the change to darkness in th

They leave us so to the way we too

The well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;
Not loth to have excuse to go,