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…

Last night it was Hallowe’en. Darkest night I’ve ever seen. And the boy next door, I thought, Would be glad to know of this Jack-o’-lantern father brought

Yea, why I love thee let my heart… I look upon thy face and then divi… How men could die for beauty, such… Deeming it sweet To lay my life and manhood at thy…

Here where the season turns the la… Among the fields our feet have kno… When we were children who would la… Glad little playmates of the wind… Before came toil and care and year…

I CAME upon a pool that shone, Clear, emerald-like, among the hil… That seemed old wizards round a st… Of magic that a vision thrills. And as I leaned and looked, it se…

Booted and spurred he rode toward… A rose, from the woman who loved h… Lay warm with her kisses there in… And the battle beacons were burnin… As over the draw he galloping went…

No more for him, where hills look… Shall Morning crown Her rainy brow with blossom bands!… The Morning Hours, whose rosy han… Drop wildflowers of the breaking s…

There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…

Wild clouds roll up, slag-dark and… And in the oaks the sere wind sobs… Weird as a word a man before he di… Mutters beneath his breath yet fea… The rain drives down; and by each…

Old phantoms haunt it of the long… Old ghosts of old-time lovers and… Within the quiet sunlight there, m… I see them walking where those lil… The hardy phlox sways to some garm…

To me not only does her soul sugge… Palms and the peace of tropic shor… But, oceaned far beyond the golden… The Fortunate Islands of true Wo…

The slow reflection of a woman’s f… Grew, as by witchcraft, in the ova… Of that strange glass on which the… As cruel as death beneath the aubu… The dark eyes burned; and, o’er th…

LET us bid the world good-by, Now while sun and cloud’s above us… While we’ve nothing to deny, Nothing but our selves to love us: Let us fancy, I and you,

An Oldham-County Weather Philoso… ‘Who is Corncob Jones?’ you say. Beateningest man and talkingest: Talk and talk th’ enduring day, Never even stop to rest,

Passion? not hers! who held me wit… One hand among the deep curls of h… I drank the girlhood of her gaze w… She never sighed, nor gave me kiss… So have I seen a clear October po…