(For Amelia Josephine Burr) The road is wide and the stars are… and the breath of the night is swe… And this is the time when wanderlu… But I’m glad to turn from the ope…

We who beg for bread as we daily t… Country lane and city street, Let us kneel and pray on the broad… To the saint with the vagrant feet… Our altar light is a buttercup bri…

(For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside a sunless beach.

In a wood they call the Rouge Bou… There is a new-made grave to-day, Built by never a spade nor pick Yet covered with earth ten metres… There lie many fighting men,

There’s a brook on the side of Gr… But there’s nothing there now but… I fished there many a Summer day… And I never quit without getting… There was a man, Dave Lilly, who…

(For the Rev. James J. Daly, S.… Bright stars, yellow stars, flashi… Are you errant strands of Lady Ma… As she slits the cloudy veil and b… Do you fall across her cheeks and…

Because we never build a nest And no one of us ever sings, We are the butt of every jest That strutting loud-mouthed robin… Unless the field with laughter rin…

(For Sara Teasdale) The lonely farm, the crowded stree… The palace and the slum, Give welcome to my silent feet As, bearing gifts, I come.

The roar of the world is in my ear… Thank God for the roar of the wor… Thank God for the mighty tide of… Against me always hurled! Thank God for the bitter and ceas…

Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you ki… Her soul spoke thus (I know it di… “O king of realms of endless joy, My own, my golden grocer’s boy, I am a princess forced to dwell

(For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throa… That throbbed with loud and rhythm… And dammed the flood of silver not… That drenched the world in melody.

Whenever I walk to Suffern along… I go by a poor old farmhouse with… I suppose I’ve passed it a hundre… And look at the house, the tragic… I never have seen a haunted house,…

(For Aline) Because the road was steep and lon… And through a dark and lonely land… God set upon my lips a song And put a lantern in my hand.

(For Aline) From what old ballad, or from what… Did you descend to glorify the ear… Was it from Chaucer’s singing boo… Or did Watteau’s small brushes gi…

(For Aline) Now by what whim of wanton chance Do radiant eyes know sombre days? And feet that shod in light should… Walk weary and laborious ways?