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…

Under the sky without a stain The long, ripe, rippling of the gr… Light, broadcast from the golden o… Over the blackberry fences floats. Madonna sits in a cedar chair

Tug at the net, Haul at the net, Strip off the quivering fish; Hid in the mist The winds whist,

From the upland hidden, Where the hill is sunny Tawny like pure honey In the August heat, Memories float unbidden

Rufus Gale speaks—1852 Yes,—in the Lincoln Militia,—in t… Many’s the day I’ve had since the… But those are the years I remembe… When we left the plow in the furro…

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

She is free of the trap and the pa… The portage and the trail, But something behind her savage li… Shines like a fragile veil. Her dreams are undiscovered,

To ports of balm through isles of… The gentle airs are leading us; To curtained calm and tents of dus… The wood-wild things unheeding us Will share their hoards of hardiho…

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!”…

Nurture thyself, O Soul, from the… That wells beneath the secret inne… Commune with its deep murmur,—'tis… Be faithful to the ebb and flow th… The outer tide of Spirit to troub…

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…

Her life was touched with early fr… About the April of her day, Her hold on earth was lightly lost… And like a leaf she went away. Her soul was chartered for great d…

Here at the roots of the mountains… Between the sombre legions of ceda… The rapids charge the ravine: A little light, cast by foam under… Wavers about the shimmering stems…

I DWELL in the sea that is wild… But afar in a shadow still, I can see the trees that gather an… In the wood upon the hill. The deeps are green as an emerald’…

A ROBIN in the morning, In the morning early, Sang a song of warning, “There’ll be rain, there’ll be rai… Very, very clearly