From plains that reel to southward… The road runs by me white and bare… Up the steep hill it seems to swim Beyond, and melt into the glare. Upward half-way, or it may be

Even as I watched the daylight ho… From noon till eve, and saw the li… In long pale waves across the flas… And heard through all my dreams, w… The thin cicada singing overhead,

Oh night and sleep, Ye are so soft and deep, I am so weary, come ye soon to me. Oh hours that creep, With so much time to weep,

Dear dark-brown waters full of all… Of sombre spruce-woods and the for… Laden with sound from far-off nort… Where winds and craggy cataracts c… Voices of streams and mountain pin…

I1. Breathers of wisdom won without a… . Quaint uncouth dreamers, voices hi… .

Didst thou not tease and fret me t… Sweet spirit of this summer-circle… With that quiet voice of thine tha… Its meaning, though I mused and s… But now I am content to let it go…

What days await this woman, whose… Breathe spells, whose presence mak… Tall, free and slender as the fore… Whose form is moulded music, throu… Frank eyes I feel the very heart’…

The King’s son walks in the garde… Oh, the maiden’s heart is merry! He little knows for his toil and c… That the bride is gone and the bow… Put on garments of white, my maide…

Now overhead, Where the rivulet loiters and stop… The bittersweet hangs from the top… Of the alders and cherries Its bunches of beautiful berries,

The wind-swayed daisies, that on e… Throng the wide fields in whisperi… Serene and gently smiling like the… Of tender children long beatified, The delicate thought-wrapped butte…

All day, all day, round the clacki… The weaver’s fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are… In the hush of the weaver’s eye; A voice from the dusk is calling y…

From upland slopes I see the cows… Lowing, great-chested, down the ho… By dusking fields and meadows shin… With moon-tipped dandelions. Flic… A peevish night-hawk in the wester…

Let us be much with Nature; not a… That labour without seeing, that e… Her unloved forces, blindly withou… Nor those whose hands and crude de… The old brute passion to hunt down…

The sun looks over a little hill And floods the valley with gold– A torrent of gold; And the hither field is green and… Beyond it a cloud outrolled,

From where I sit, I see the stars… And down the chilly floor The moon between the frozen bars Is glimmering dim and hoar. Without in many a peakèd mound