What intuition named thee?—Throug… Of the awed soul came the command… Into the mother-heart, foretelling… Should palpitate with his whose ra… Sing on while daisies bloom and la…

Here’s his ragged 'roundabout’; Turn the pockets inside out: See; his pen-knife, lost to use, Rusted shut with apple-juice; Here, with marbles, top and string…

Another hero of those youthful yea… Returns, as Noey Bixler’s name ap… And Noey—if in any special way— Was notably good-natured.—Work or… He entered into with selfsame deli…

1 Our hired girl, she’s 'Liza… 2 An’ she can cook best thin… 3 She ist puts dough in our pi… 4 An’ pours in somepin’ 'at’… 5 An’ nen she salts it all on…

Last night—how deep the darkness w… And well I knew its depths, becau… I waded it from shore to shore, Thinking to reach the light no mor… She would not even touch my hand—-…

In words like weeds, I’ll wrap me… Like coarsest clothes against the… But that large grief which these e… Is given in outline and no more. —TENNYSON.

'I deem that God is not disquiete… This in a mighty poet’s rhymes I… And blazoned so forever doth abide Within my soul the legend glorifie… Though awful tempests thunder over…

W’y, one time wuz a little-weenty… An’ she wuz named Red Riding Hoo… Her _Ma_ she maked a little red c… 'At turnt up over her head—An’ it… Ist one piece o’ red cardinal ‘at…

They meet to say farewell: Their… Of saying this is hard to say—. He holds her hand an Instant, who… Distressed—and she unclasps it slo… He lends his gaze evasively

O touch me with your hands— For pity’s sake! My brow throbs ever on with such a… As only your cool touch may take a… And so, I pray

I caught, for a second, across the… Just for a second, and barely that… A face, pox-pitted and evil-browed… Hid in the shade of a slouch-rim’d… With small gray eyes, of a look as…

I’ b’en a-kindo musin’, as the fel… About o’ the conclusion that they… When you come to cipher on it, tha… When we swore our first 'dog-gone-… You git my idy, do you?—_Little_…

As a harvester, at dusk, Faring down some woody trail Leading homeward through the musk Of may-apple and pawpaw, Hazel-bush, and spice and haw,—

A goddess, with a siren’s grace,— A sun-haired girl on a craggy plac… Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. Wrought was she of a painter’s dre…

The pipes of Pan! Not idler now a… Than when their cunning fashioner… The pith of music from them: Yet… And me their notes are blown in ma… Lost in our murmurings for that ol…