Whose woods these are I think I k
His house is in the village, thoug
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with sn
My little horse must think it quee

Age saw two quiet children
Go loving by at twilight,
He knew not whether homeward,
Or outward from the village,
Or (chimes were ringing) churchwar

I’m going out to clean the pasture
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves
(And wait to watch the water clear
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come
I’m going out to fetch the little

The buzz—saw snarled and rattled i
And made dust and dropped stove—le
Sweet—scented stuff when the breez
And from there those that lifted e
Five mountain ranges one behind th

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

My long two-pointed ladder’s stick
Toward heaven still,
And there’s a barrel that I didn’
Beside it, and there may be two or
Apples I didn’t pick upon some bo

All out-of-doors looked darkly in
Through the thin frost, almost in
That gathers on the pane in empty
What kept his eyes from giving bac
Was the lamp tilted near them in h

When I see birches bend to left a
Across the lines of straighter dar
I like to think some boy’s been sw
But swinging doesn’t bend them dow
As ice-storms do. Often you must

“You ought to have seen what I sa
To the village, through Mortenson
Blueberries as big as the end of y
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and read
In the cavernous pail of the first

The city had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to th
When between whirls of snow not co
And whirls of foliage not yet laid
A stranger to our yard, who looked

I found a dimpled spider, fat and
On a white heal-all, holding up a
Like a white piece of rigid satin
Assorted characters of death and b
Mixed ready to begin the morning r

Back out of all this now too much
Back in a time made simple by the
Of detail, burned, dissolved, and
Like graveyard marble sculpture in
There is a house that is no more a

Others taunt me with having knelt
Always wrong to the light, so neve
Deeper down in the well than where
Gives me back in a shining surface
Me myself in the summer heaven god

There was never a sound beside the
And that was my long scythe whispe
What was it it whispered? I knew
Perhaps it was something about the
Something, perhaps, about the lack

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

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,

He saw her from the bottom of the
Before she saw him. She was star
Looking back over her shoulder at
She took a doubtful step and then
To raise herself and look again.

Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?

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

Mary sat musing on the lamp—flame
Waiting for Warren. When she hear
She ran on tip—toe down the darken
To meet him in the doorway with th
And put him on his guard. “Silas

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fal
To—morrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.

I celebrate myself, and sing mysel
And what I assume you shall assum
For every atom belonging to me as
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observ

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free
Away from books, away from art, th
Thee fully forth emerging, silent,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.

HOLD it up sternly! See this it
Outside fair costume—within ashes
No more a flashing eye—no more a s
Now some slave’s eye, voice, hands
A drunkard’s …

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promont
Mark’d how to explore the vacant v
It launch’d forth filament, filame
Ever unreeling them, ever tireless

A Sight in camp in the day—break
As from my tent I emerge so early
As slow I walk in the cool fresh
tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers l

A Woman waits for me—she contains
Yet all were lacking, if sex were
right man were lacking.
Sex contains all,
Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs,

Ages and ages, returning at interv
Undestroy’d, wandering immortal,
Lusty, phallic, with the potent or
I, chanter of Adamic songs,
Through the new garden, the West,

As I ponder’d in silence,
Returning upon my poems, consideri
A Phantom arose before me, with d
Terrible in beauty, age, and power
The genius of poets of old lands,

A Glimpse, through an interstice
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers
late of a winter night—And I unre
Of a youth who loves me, and whom

A Leaf for hand in hand!
You natural persons old and young!
You on the Mississippi, and on al
Mississippi!
You friendly boatmen and mechanics

That which eludes this verse and a
Unheard by sharpest ear, unform’d
Nor lore nor fame, nor happiness n
And yet the pulse of every heart a
…

Come, I will make the continent i
I will make the most splendid race
I will make divine magnetic lands,
With the love of comrades,
With the life—long love of comrade

ABOARD, at a ship’s helm,
A young steersman, steering with c
A bell through fog on a sea-coast
An ocean-bell—O a warning bell, r
O you give good notice indeed, you