#1928 #AmericanWriters #WestRunningBrook
Out through the fields and the woo… And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and desce… I have come by the highway home,
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…
There’s a patch of old snow in a c… That I should have guessed Was a blow—away paper the rain Had brought to rest. It is speckled with grime as if
Snow falling and night falling fas… In a field I looked into going pa… And the ground almost covered smoo… But a few weeds and stubble showin… The woods around it have it—it is…
Two roads diverged in a yellow woo… And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I c… To where it bent in the undergrowt…
Two fairies it was On a still summer day Came forth in the woods With the flowers to play. The flowers they plucked
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…
“Willis, I didn’t want you here t… The lawyer’s coming for the compan… I’m going to sell my soul, or, rat… Five hundred dollars for the pair,… “With you the feet have nearly bee…
At the end of the row I stepped on the toe Of an unemployed hoe. It rose in offense And struck me a blow
By June our brook’s run out of so… Sought for much after that, it wil… Either to have gone groping underg… (And taken with it all the Hyla b… That shouted in the mist a month a…
The clouds, the source of rain, on… Offered an opening to the source o… Which I accepted with impatient s… Looking for my old skymarks in the… But stars were scarce in that part…
Something there is that doesn’t lo… That sends the frozen—ground—swell… And spills the upper boulders in t… And makes gaps even two can pass a… The work of hunters is another thi…
Here come real stars to fill the u… And here on earth come emulating f… That though they never equal stars… (And they were never really stars… Achieve at times a very star—like…
BROWN lived at such a lofty farm That everyone for miles could see His lantern when he did his chores In winter after half-past three. And many must have seen him make
As vain to raise a voice as a sigh In the tumult of free leaves on hi… What are you in the shadow of tree… Engaged up there with the light an… Less than the coral-root you know