Upon the summit of his Century He reared a Palace of enduring Ar… From whose wild windows never more… Beauty’s pale light and starry fan… Within is music, sobbing ceaseless…

What words of mine can tell the sp… Of garden ways I know so well?- The path that takes me in the spri… Past quince-trees where the bluebi… And peonies are blossoming,

How fancy romped and played here, Building this house of moss! A faery house, the shade here And sunlight gleam across; And how it danced and swayed here,

A barren field o’ergrown with thor… It stays for him who waits for hel… Only the soul that makes a plough… Shall know what blossoms underneat…

It’s out and away at break of day, To frolic and run in the sun-sweet… It’s up and out with a laugh and s… Let the old world know that a boy’… It’s ho for the creek that the min…

A Sea of onyx are the skies, Cloud-islanded with fire; Such nacre-colored flame as dyes A sea-shell’s rosy spire; And at its edge one star sinks slo…

Hearts, that have cheered us ever,… With words that helped us on the r… The hard, long road of life to who… More than the heart can ever hope… Are they not touchstones, soul-tra…

Soft and silken and silvery brown, In shoes of lichen and leafy gown, Little blue butterflies fluttering… Deep in the forest, afar from town… There where a stream came tricklin…

The barberry burns, the rose-hip c… And haw and sumach hedge the hill… Down which the road winds, worn of… Only the blueberry-picker plods no… Here once the quarry-driver, brown…

With moon-white hearts that held a… I gathered wild-flowers in a dream… And shaped a woman, whose sweet bl… Was odour of the wildwood bud. From dew, the starlight arrowed th…

O roads, O paths, O ways that lea… Through woods where all the oak-tr… With autumn! and the frosty reds Of fallen leaves make whispering b… For winds to toss and turn upon,

There’s a house across the street That nobody goes into; Say it’s haunted, yes, they do; Ghosts livethere, they say, or mee… Saw one in a winding-sheet

When in the pansy-purpled stain Of sunset one far star is seen, Like some bright dropp of rain, Out of the forest, deep and green, O’er me at Spirit seems to lean,

Deep in a valley, green with ancie… And wandered through of one small,… Whose bear-grassed banks bristled… Tick-trefoil and the thorny marigo… Bush-clover and the wahoo, hung wi…

On the barren hillside lone he sat… On his head he wore a tattered hat… In his hand he bore a crooked staf… Never heard I laughter like his l… On the barren hillside, thistle-ho…