Dear dark-brown waters full of all… Of sombre spruce-woods and the for… Laden with sound from far-off nort… Where winds and craggy cataracts c… Voices of streams and mountain pin…

A little while, a year agone, I knew her for a romping child, A dimple and a glance that shone With idle mischief when she smiled… To-day she passed me in the press,

The sun looks over a little hill And floods the valley with gold– A torrent of gold; And the hither field is green and… Beyond it a cloud outrolled,

Beyond the dusky corn-fields, towa… Dotted with farms, beyond the shal… Through drifts of elm with quiet p… Curved white and slender as a lady… Faint and far off out of the autum…

Now being on the eve of death, dis… From every mortal hope and earthly… I questioned how my soul might bes… This hand, and this still wakeful… In the brief hours yet left me for…

Broad shadows fall. On all the mo… The scythe-swept fields are silent… By the long beach the high-piled h… Splashing the pale salt shallows.… Fawn-coloured wastes of mud the sl…

One moment, the slim cloudflakes s… With their sad sunward faces aureo… And longing lips set downward brig… To take the last sweet hand kiss o… Gone down beyond the closing west…

In days, when the fruit of men’s l… And hearts were weary and nigh to… A sweet grave man with a beautiful… Came to us once in the fields and… He told us of Roma, the marvellou…

With a turn of his magical rod, That extended and suddenly shone, From the round of his glory some g… Looks forth and is gone. To the summit of heaven the clouds

What would’st thou have for easeme… When the rude world hath used thee… And care sits at thine elbow day a… Filching thy pleasures like a subt… To me, when life besets me in such…

All day, all day, round the clacki… The weaver’s fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are… In the hush of the weaver’s eye; A voice from the dusk is calling y…

Far in the grim Northwest beyond… That turn the rivers eastward to t… Set with a thousand islands, crown… Lies the deep water, wild Temagam… Wild for the hunter’s roving, and…

I saw the city’s towers on a lumin… Beyond them a hill of the softest… With naught but frost and the comi… And a long thin cloud above the co… I sat in the midst of a plain on m…

Let us be much with Nature; not a… That labour without seeing, that e… Her unloved forces, blindly withou… Nor those whose hands and crude de… The old brute passion to hunt down…

Scarcely a breath about the rocky… Moved, but the growing tide from v… Heaving salt fragrance on the midn… Climbed with a murmurous and fitfu… A hoary mist rose up and slowly sh…