The grasshopper, that sang its sle… All summer long, The orchard lands and harvest fiel… Taking no heed of aught save its o… Without alloy,

The flute, whence Summer’s dreamy… Drew music, ripening the pinched k… The burly chestnut and the chinqua… Red-rounding-out the oval haws and… Now Winter crushes to his stormy…

When on the leaves the rain persis… And every gust brings showers down… When all the woodland smokes with… I take the old road out of town Into the hills through which it tw…

There’s a scent of pungent wood sm… And a jack-o’-lantern glare, a wil… ’Tis the brush that burns and smou… The old New England ways, When Autumn plants her gipsy tent…

Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils.- Awake! arise! and let me see

I Heard a reed among the hills, A woodland reed of music where, Like madcap children, ran the rill… Boisterous, with wildly flowing ha… I knew it for a pipe the Spring

Deep with divine tautology, The sunset’s mighty mystery Again has traced the scroll-like w… With hieroglyphs of burning gold: Forever new, forever old,

There was moonlight in the garden… There was scent of pink and peony… When adown the pathway whitely, wh… She came stepping, oh, so lightly, To the old gate made of pickets.

Winds that cavern heaven and the c… And canyon with cerulean blue, Great rifts down which the stormy… Like some bright seraph, who, Mailed in intensity of silver mail…

The locust builds its are of sound And tops it with a spire; The roadside leaves pant to the gr… With dust from hoof and tire. The insects, day and night, make d…

Sodden and shivering, in mud and r… Half in the light that serves but… The blackness of an alley and the… Homeward of wretchedness in tatter… A boy stands crouched; big drops o…

There’s a bug at night that goes Drowsily down the garden ways; Lumberingly above the rose, And above the jasmine sprays; Bumping, bungling, buzzing by,

Here’s to her who bears the name Of our State; May the glory of her fame Be as great! In the battle’s dread eclipse,

Beneath an old beech-tree They sat together, Fair as a flower was she Of summer weather. They spoke of life and love,

Where hast thou folded thy pinions… Spirit of Dreams? Hidden elusive garments Woven of gleams? In what divine dominions,