LORD of the grass and hill, Lord of the rain, White Overlord of will, Master of pain, I who am dust and air

OH, but life went gaily, gaily, In the house of Idiedaily! There were always throats to sing Down the river-banks with spring, When the stir of heart’s desire

ONCE I walked the world enchante… Through the scented woods of sprin… Hand in hand with Love, in raptur… Just to hear a bluebird sing. Now the lonely winds of autumn

I SAID to Life, ‘How comes it, With all this wealth in store, Of beauty, joy, and knowledge, Thy cry is still for more? ’Count all the years of striving

THOUGHT is a garden wide and ol… For airy creatures to explore, Where grow the great fantastic flo… With truth for honey at the core. There like a wild marauding bee

My tent stands in a garden Of aster and golden-rod, Tilled by the rain and the sunshin… And sown by the hand of God, - An old New England pasture

AT the end of the road through th… I see the great moon rise. The fields are flooded with shine, And my soul with surmise. What if that mystic orb

ABOVE the weary waiting world, Asleep in chill despair, There breaks a sound of joyous bel… Upon the frosted air. And o’er the humblest rooftree, lo…

I SEE the great blue heron Rising among the reeds And floating down the wind, Like a gliding sail With the set of the stream.

Harvard, 1914 SIR, friends, and scholars, we ar… A high occasion. Our New England… All her unrivalled beauty as of ol… And June, with scent of bayberry…

ALONG the wintry skyline, Crowning the rocky crest, Stands the bare screen of hardwood… Against the saffron west,— Its gray and purple network

I thank thee, Earth, for water go… The sea’s great bath of buoyant gr… Or the cold mountain torrent’s flo… That I may keep this body clean. I thank thee more for goodly wine,

Time out of mind I have stood Fronting the frost and the sun, That the dream of the world might… And the goodly will be done. Did the hand of the builder guess,

NOW the little rivers go Muffled safely under snow, And the winding meadow streams Murmur in their wintry dreams, While a tinkling music wells

The swarthy bee is a buccaneer, A burly velveted rover, Who loves the booming wind in his… As he sails the seas of clover. A waif of the goblin pirate crew,