A long the thousand roads of Fran… Now there, and here, swift as a gl… A cloud, a mist blown down the sky… Good Joan of Arc goes riding by. In Domremy at candlelight,

An apple orchard smells like wine; A succory flower is blue; Until Grief touched these eyes of… Such things I never knew. And now indeed I know so plain

A rhyme of good Death’s inn!    My love came to that door; And she had need of many things,    The way had been so sore. My love she lifted up her head,

Her eyes be like the violets, Ablow in Sudbury lane; When she doth smile, her face is s… As blossoms after rain; With grief I think of my gray hai…

Along the pastoral ways I go, To get the healing of the trees, The ghostly news the hedges know; To hive me honey like the bees, Against the time of snow.

A Colonial Custom Bathsheba came out to the sun, Out to our wallèd cherry-trees; The tears adown her cheek did run, Bathsheba standing in the sun,

Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of… I see the pool out in the grass,

Glad that I live am I; That the sky is blue; Glad for the country lanes, And the fall of dew. After the sun the rain;

Snatch the departing mood; Make yours its emptying reed, and… Faith in the time, faith in our co… Faith in the least of good: Song cannot fail if these its spir…

This is the house where I was bre… The wind blows through it without… The wind bitten by the roadside mi… Here brake I loaf, here climbed t… The fuchsia on the window sill;

Lydia is gone this many a year, Yet when the lilacs stir, In the old gardens far or near, The house is full of her. They climb the twisted chamber sta…

An English lad, who, reading in a… A ponderous, leathern thing set on… Saw the broad violet of the Egean… Lap at his feet as it were village… Wide was the east; the gusts of mo…

Dark, thinned, beside the wall of… The box dripped in the air; Its odor through my house was blow… Into the chamber there. Remote and yet distinct the scent,

A serviceable thing Is fennel, mint, or balm, Kept in the thrifty calm Of hollows, in the spring; Or by old houses pent.