Far in the east the rain-clouds sw… Down the long haggard hills, forml… Far in the west the shell-tints me… Piled gray and tender blue and ros… East—like a fiend, the bolt-breast…

Here in the midnight, where the da… Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, p… Sing we the hymns of the churches,… Whispers before us. Thunder is travelling slow on the…

Wind of the gentle summer night, Dwell in the lilac tree, Sway the blossoms clustered light, Then blow over to me. Wind, you are sometimes strong and…

The winds that on the uplands soft… Grow keener where the ice is linge… Where the first robin on the shelt… Pipes blithely to the tune, “When… Hear him again, “Spring! Spring!”…

Veil-like and beautiful Gathered the dutiful Mist in the night, True to the messaging, Dreamful and presaging

This is the land! It lies outstretched a vision of d… Bent like a shield between the sil… It flashes back the hauteur of the… Yet teems with humblest beauties,…

WHEN the deep cunning architect Had the great minster planned, They worked in faith for twice two… And reared the building grand; War came and famine and they did n…

The Earth moans in her sleep Like an old mother Whose sons have gone to the war, Who weeps silently in her heart Till dreams comfort her.

Tossed like a falcon from the hunt… A sweeping plunge, a sudden shatte… And thou hast dared, with a long s… The elastic stairway to the rising… Peril below thee and above, peril

This is not June,—by Autumn’s str… Thou hast been ambushed in the chi… Upon thy fragile crest virginal fa… The rime has clustered in a diadem… The early frost

Once in the winter Out on a lake In the heart of the north-land, Far from the Fort And far from the hunters,

Here in the pungent gloom Where the tamarac roses glow And the balsam burns its perfume, A vireo turns his slow Cadence, as if he gloated

IN the smithy it began: Let’s make something for a man! Hear the bellows belch and roar, Splashing light on roof and floor: From their nest the feathery spark…

Where love is life The roses blow, Though winds be rude And cold the snow, The roses climb

This silver-edged geranium leaf Is one sign of a bitter grief Whose symbols are a myriad more; They cluster round a carven stone Where she who sleeps is never alon…