Who knows the things they dream, a… Or feel, who lie beneath the groun… Perhaps the flowers, the leaves, a… That close them round. In spring the violets may spell

Briar and fennel and chinquapin, And rue and ragweed everywhere; The field seemed sick as a soul wi… Or dead of an old despair, Born of an ancient care.

Under mossy oak and pine Whispering falls the fountained st… In its pool the lilies shine Silvery, each a moonlight gleam. Roses bloom and roses die

Sunlight and shrill cicada and the… Slow, sleepy kissing of the sea an… And rumor of the wind. The mornin… A sullen face of fog that lifted s… Letting her eyes gleam through of…

Under an oak-tree in a woodland, w… The dreaming Spring had dropped i… I found a flower, through which I… Beyond the world and see what no m… Behold and live the myths of bygon…

They mock the present and they hau… And in the future there is naught… With hope, the soul desires, that… The heart pursuing does not find a…

Under the boughs of spring She swung in the old rope-swing. Her cheeks, with their happy blood… Were pink as the apple-bud. Her eyes, with their deep delight,

With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…

When the poppies, with their shiel… Sentinel Forest and the harvest fields, In the bell Of a blossom, fair to see,

If heart be tired and soul be sad As life goes on in homespun clad, Drab, colorless, with much of care… Not even a ribbon in her hair; Heart-broken for the near and new,

COME, let’s climb into our attic… In our house that’s old and gray! Life, you’re old and I’m rheumati… And—it’s close of day. Lay aside your rags and tatters,

Wrapped round of the night, as a m… Down, down through vast storeys of… Of the heaven, the thunder! on sta… Colossal of tread, like a giant, f… Goes striding in rattling armor...

HE found the long room as it was… Glimmering with sunset’s gold; That made the tapestries seem full… Strange with a wild surmise: Glaring upon a Psyche where she s…

Summer, gowned in catnip-gray, Goes her weedy wildwood way, Where with rosehip-buttoned coat, Cardinal flower-plume afloat, With the squirrel-folk at play,

In some quaint Nurnberg maler-atelier Uprummaged. When and where was ne… Nor yet how he obtained it. When,… ’Twas painted-who shall say? itsel…