Every year Emily Dickinson sent o… the first arbutus bud in her garde… In a last will and testament Andr… remembered a friend with the gift… Washington’s pocket spy-glass.

I HAVE kept all, not one is thro… The red ones and the blue, the lon… Keep them: I tell my heart: keep… They came once, they came easy, th… Like any sudden, presumptuous, bea…

DREAMS in the dusk, Only dreams closing the day And with the day’s close going bac… To the gray things, the dark thing… The far, deep things of dreamland.

THREE walls around the town of… They expected everything of those… Nobody in the town came out to kis… I knocked the walls down, killed t… Took away cattle and sheep, took a…

SHINE on, O moon of summer. Shine to the leaves of grass, cata… All silver under your rain to-nigh… An Italian boy is sending songs t… A Polish boy is out with his best…

OF my city the worst that men wil… You took little children away from… And the glimmers that played in th… And the reckless rain; you put the… To work, broken and smothered, for…

Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don’t. Fish to swim a ...

I SPOT the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins.

SLING me under the sea. Pack me down in the salt and wet. No farmer’s plow shall touch my bo… No Hamlet hold my jaws and speak How jokes are gone and empty is my…

I AM the mist, the impalpable mis… Back of the thing you seek. My arms are long, Long as the reach of time and spac… Some toil and toil, believing,

And this will be all? And the gates will never open agai… And the dust and the wind will pla… And you will look to the mountains And the mountains will look to you

Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…

BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,

STRONG rocks hold up the riksdag bridge... always strong river waters shoving their shoulders against them... In the riksdag to-night three hundred men are talking to each other about m...