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…

Dormered and verandaed, cool, Locust-girdled, on the hill; Stained with weather—wear, and dul… Streak’d with lichens; every sill Thresholding the beautiful;

Let down the bars; drive in the co… The west is barred with burning ro… Unhitch the horses from the plough… And from the cart the ox that lows… And light the lamp within the hous…

THIS world is made a witchcraft… With gazing on a woman’s face. Now ’tis her smile, whose sorcery Turns all my thoughts to melody. Now ’tis her frown, that comes and…

Through ferns and moss the path wo… A hollow where the touchmenots Swung horns of honey filled with d… And where like foot-prints violets… And bluets made sweet sapphire blo…

Seemingly over the hill-tops, Possibly under the hills, A tireless wing that never drops, And a song that never stills. Epics heard on the stars’ lips?

The hills are full of prophecies And ancient voices of the dead; Of hidden shapes that no man sees, Pale, visionary presences, That speak the things no tongue ha…

Under mossy oak and pine Whispering falls the fountained st… In its pool the lilies shine Silvery, each a moonlight gleam. Roses bloom and roses die

There is a place (I know it well) Where beech trees crowd into a glo… And where a twinkling woodland wel… Flings from a rock a rippling plum… And, like a Faun beneath a spell,

What mines the morning heavens unf… What far Alaskas of the skies! That, veined with elemental gold, Sierra on Sierra rise. Heap up the gold of all the world,

The night is loud with reeds of ra… Rejoicing at my window-pane, And murmuring, ‘Spring comes agai… I hear the wind take up their song And on the sky’s vibrating gong

Here is the place where Lovelines… Between the river and the wooded h… Within a valley where the Springt… Her firstling wind-flowers under b… Where Summer sits braiding her wa…

The day is dead; and in the west The slender crescent of the moon Diana’s crystal-kindled crest Sinks hillward in a silvery swoon. What is the murmur in the dell?

Would I could talk as the flowers… To my soul! and the stars, in thei… Through Heaven! and tell to the h… The things that they say, so all m… The dreams they dream, and have to…

I Stood upon a height and listene… The solemn psalmody of many pines, And with the sound I seemed to se… Of mountains rise, blue peak on cl… And hear the roar of torrents hurl…