The patter of a baby’s feet Upon the floor, His babble at the door’€” Ah, these are sounds too sweet, to… Blue sky, save me from tears!

Earth bears her sorrow gladly, lik… Her young face glowing through the… The storms that threaten her, the… Kindle a deeper color. She has wo… Graces that please the high-enthro…

Dear Wanderer’€” The sky is gray, With flecks of blue The clouds rush over. A bird is singing

She heard the children playing in… And through her window saw the whi… Sway like a film of silver in the… Under the purple hills; and one by… She noted chairs and cabinets, and…

Pearl-gray is the sky, And high within it, sailing by, Three sea-gulls fly. Pearl-white are they Against the sky’s obscurer gray—

Flowers grow in the grass, Baby footfalls pass Over the fields once red, Over the hero’s head— For Peace.

How wild, how witch-like weird tha… That the insensate rock dared drea… And take to bursting out and burge… Oh, long ago’€”yo ho!'€” And wearing green! How stark and…

BEHOLD, I send thee to the heig… My brother! Let thine eyes awake… As morning dew, within whose glowi… Is mirrored half a world; and list… Till in thine ears, famished to ke…

What a boom! boom! Sounds among the honeysuckles! Saying, 'Room! room! Hold your breath and mind your knu… And a fairy birdling bright

Where bold Sierras cut the sky Mount Whitney, of the high most h… Halts the pale clouds that wander… We crept and climbed with eager fe… Until the world, fulfilled, comple…

Prairie child, Brief as dew, What winds of wonder Nourished you? Rolling plains

While I walk the pavement sooty In the town, Tread the stony path of duty Up and down, Oh, the Kern, all clad in beauty—

E. H. M. Nov. 17th, 1890—Feb. 13th, 1904 Still he lies, Pale, wan, and strangely wise. Under the white coverlet

Three crosses rose on Calvary aga… Each with its living burden, each… And all the ages watched there, an… One bore the God incarnate, revil… Who through the woe he suffered fo…

I Love to sit in the sun And watch the foaming Lyell Leap over its granite bed. I love these days that run On a burnished golden dial