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 Thine eyes, whose deeps epitomize...
Clad on with glowing beauty and the peace, Benign, of calm maturity, she stands Among her meadows and her orchard-lands, And on her mellowing gardens and her trees,...
The unpretentious flowers of the woods, That rise in bright and banded brotherhoods, Waving us welcome, and with kisses sweet Laying their lives down underneath our feet,...
The bitter-sweet and red-haw in her hands, And in her hair pale berries of the bay, She haunts the coves and every Cape Ann way, The Indian, Autumn, wandered from her bands....
Her rain-kissed face is fresh as rain, Is cool and fresh as a rain-wet leaf; She glimmers at my window-pane, And all my grief Becomes a feeble rushlight, seen no more...
Ah me! too soon the autumn comes Among these purple-plaintive hills! Too soon among the forest gums Premonitory flame she spills, Bleak, melancholy flame that kills. ...
The wind is rising and the leaves are swept Wildly before it, hundreds on hundreds fall Huddling beneath the trees. With brag and brawl Of storm the day is grown a tavern, kept...
Like colored lanterns swung in Elfin towers, Wild morning-glories light the tangled ways, And, like the rosy rockets of the Fays, Burns the sloped crimson of the cardinal-flowers.
She walks with the wind on the windy height When the rocks are loud and the waves are white, And all night long she calls through the night, "O my children, come home!"...
Dark, drear, and drizzly, with vapor grizzly, The day goes dully unto its close; Its wet robe smutches each thing it touches, Its fingers sully and wreck the rose.
That day we wandered 'mid the hills,'so lone Clouds are not lonelier,'the forest lay In emerald darkness 'round us. Many a stone And gnarly root, gray-mossed, made wild our way:...
White moons may come, white moons may go - She sleeps where early blossoms blow; Knows nothing of the leafy June, That leans above her night and noon, Crowned now with sunbeam, now with moon,...
The old gate clicks, and down the walk, Between clove-pink and hollyhock, Still young of face though gray of lock, Among her garden's flowers she goes At evening's close, Deep in her hair a yellow rose....
Once a rabbit crossed my road When I went to see my aunt; And another time a toad Hopped right in my way. You can't Kill toads, for that makes it rain, And would spoil your day again. ...
Beautiful-bosomed, O Night, in thy noon Move with majesty onward! soaring, as lightly As a singer may soar the notes of an exquisite tune, The stars and the moon...