#1928 #AmericanWriters #WestRunningBrook
God made a beatous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden
The bear puts both arms around the… And draws it down as if it were a… And its choke cherries lips to kis… Then lets it snap back upright in… Her next step rocks a boulder on t…
Snow falling and night falling fas… In a field I looked into going pa… And the ground almost covered smoo… But a few weeds and stubble showin… The woods around it have it—it is…
I never dared be radical when youn… For fear it would make me conserva…
As I went down the hill along the… There was a gate I had leaned at… And had just turned from when I f… As you came up the hill. We met.… We did that day was mingle great a…
More than halfway up the pass Was a spring with a broken drinkin… And whether the farmer drank or no… His mare was sure to observe the s… By cramping the wheel on a water-b…
He thought he kept the universe al… For all the voice in answer he cou… Was but the mocking echo of his ow… From some tree-hidden cliff across… Some morning from the boulder-brok…
Love has earth to which she clings With hills and circling arms about… Wall within wall to shut fear out. But Thought has need of no such t… For Thought has a pair of dauntle…
Oh, stormy stormy world, The days you were not swirled Around with mist and cloud, Or wrapped as in a shroud, And the sun’s brilliant ball
It is blue-butterfly day here in s… And with these sky-flakes down in… There is more unmixed color on the… Than flowers will show for days un… But these are flowers that fly and…
These pools that, though in forest… The total sky almost without defec… And like the flowers beside them,… Will like the flowers beside them… And yet not out by any brook or ri…
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…
Mary sat musing on the lamp—flame… Waiting for Warren. When she hear… She ran on tip—toe down the darken… To meet him in the doorway with th… And put him on his guard. “Silas…
YOU come to fetch me from my work… When supper’s on the table, and we… If I can leave off burying the wh… Soft petals fallen from the apple… (Soft petals, yes, but not so barr…
He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…