At the moon’s down-going let it be On the quarry hill with its one gn… The red-rock road of the underbrus… Where the woman came through the s… The sumac high and the elder thick…

Mother of visions, with lineaments… Breathed on the eyelids of love by… Secretly, sweetly, O presence of… Thou comest mysterious, In beauty imperious,

He closed his eyes, yet still coul… The leprous hills loom thirstily; The mesquit glimmering; and the du… Of alkali; and, rimmed with rust Of emerald, a mineral pool

Withered and gray as winter; gnarl… With bony hands he crouches by the… His beggar’s coat is patched and w… Rags are his shoes: clutched in hi… A chest he hugs wherein he hoards…

Sunflowers wither and lilies die, Poppies are pods of seeds; The first red leaves on the pathwa… Like blood of a heart that bleeds. Weary alway will it be to-day,

Thou, oh, thou! Thou of the chorded shell and gold… Of the dark eyes and pale pacific… Music, who by the plangent waves, Or in the echoing night of labyrin…

Can one resolve and hunt it from o… This love, this god and fiend, tha… Of many a life, in ways no tongue… No mind divine, nor any word impar… Would not one think the slights th…

THE moon, a circle of gold, O’er the crowded housetops rolled, And peeped in an attic, where, ‘Mid sordid things and bare, A sick child lay and gazed

Upon the mossed rock by the spring She sits, forgetful of her pail, Lost in remote remembering Of that which may no more avail. Her thin, pale hair is dimly dress…

First Came the rain, loud, with s… A pursuivant who heralded a prince… And dawn put on her livery of tint… And dusk bound gold about her hair… And, all in silver mail, the sunli…

I am a part of all you see In Nature; part of all you feel: I am the impact of the bee Upon the blossom; in the tree I am the sap,-that shall reveal

The road leads up a hill through m… Blueberry and barberry, bay and sa… By an abandoned quarry, where, lik… A round pool lies; an isolated lak… A mirror for what presences, that…

High as a star, yet lowly as a flo… Unknown she takes her unassuming p… At Earth’s proud masquerade-the a… Strikes, and, behold, the marvel o…

Their only thought religion, What Christmas joys had they, The stern, staunch Pilgrim Father… Knew naught of holiday? A log-church in the clearing

He makes a roadway of the crumblin… Or on the fallen tree,-brown as a… Fall stripes with russet,-gambols… Green twilight of the woods. We s… He comes, nor whither (in a time s…