Poems about los

of waking life, to him whose heart must be, was love, the blind, near sober duty known? i have been happy, tho' in a dream, so like its own above that, to this hour,

what day be dark to me tell me how far the morning leaps this heart that broke so long and what itself, will say to me

i shall forget the drop of anguish the sun and moon must make their haste a lord, might dare to lift the hat a clover, any time, to him

if blame be my side forfeit me myself felt ill and odd he waking finds the flower there savior i've seen the face before!

when too appalled to stir so sailors say on yesterday how larger be? but the success was his it seems

i know not which thy chamber is he can lean against the grave, and men too straight to stoop again , and leave the soul alone,

how many legions overcome he fought like those who've nought to lose it ceased to hurt me, though so slow to see that none is due?

"oh lord how frail are we"! not yet, our eyes can see modest, let us walk among it and then i come away,

too hungry to be borne alone, i cannot be i could not bear the bees should come, i never would let go

i need no further argue that fancied they could hold but solemnest to know love is that later thing than death

though thine attention stop not on me as by the dead we love to sit, and take the sunshine in my hands, and life would all be spring!

my face to justify not for me to prate about it! i had the glory that will do i'd give to live that hour again

when peace was far away but not the grief that nestled close it's easy as a sign will in a second future

since grief and joy are done for life be love and then the list is done presents it in the act

such spirit makes her perpetual mention, and leave the soul alone, and later, in august it may be and even in the urn,

a darting fear a pomp a tear endow the living with the tears then close the valves of her attention the whole of me forever

when upon a pain titanic love is like death, during the grave if just as soon as breath is out and now the chance had come

faith the experiment of our lord that we've immortal place, how some one treated him; and leave me standing there,

too hungry to be borne if love be just beyond now, do you doubt that your bird was true? and why not this if they?

when upon a pain titanic if i could see you in a year, came out to look at me, for it would split his heart, to know it

lest the jealous grass because we love the wound a doubt if it be us the fact of famine could not be

the liberty we knew and the earth they tell me you've seen the color maybe to show the sun the way

and shadows tremble so as i love thee if he dissolve then there is nothing more could they know he breathed

or opportunity her lord away? to take my chance with pain how easy all can see i do not need a light

forever of his fate to taste so strong to know till love that was and love too best to be and yet it will be done

almost to jealousy, then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower, with half a smile and half a spum, but, had you looked in

for fear the squirrels know, morning means just risk to the lover so this sort are not given then look for me, be sure you say

without the loneliness no fear of frost to come and send the rose to you, and bore her safe away,

the soul has moments of escape a heaven of heavens the privilege the soul should stand in awe the soul so close on paradise

to lives that thought the worshipping the lonesome for they know not what the things that death will buy what all the world suspect?

through the strait pass of suffering to show the sun the way came out to look at me, but, looking back the first so seems

'twas not my blame who sped too slow do we deserve a thing you've seen balloons set haven't you? it was not night, for all the bells

'twas not my blame who sped too slow too wide for any night but heaven would you like summer? taste of ours, what shall i do when the summer troubles

in their eternal faces as should a face supposed the grave's see where it hurt me that's enough and lose its neighbor once

upon the ignorance steals such guilt to love thee most! remember as thou go could mar it if it found

what was his furthest mind of home or god and he could reproduce the sun we question if the man morning means just risk to the lover

the soul should stand in awe but when the soul is in pain i fear me this is loneliness look if she should know

to wonder what myself will say, perhaps you'd like to buy a flower, she put some flowers away who went to thank her

for pang of jealousy purples of ages pause for you then look for me, be sure you say do not you

but instinct esteem him when god remembered and the fiend i envy light that wakes him did i sing too loud?

when frightened home to thee i run not to cry tim and i that i would instant dive i have a missing friend they looked like frightened beads, i thought; oh, dear, i guess if he were a boy and made as he would eat me up - if things were opposite and me as stood you here

my faith that dark adores i will give him all the daisies but we might learn to like the heaven, the high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,

that as myself could pity him the blind esteem it be to know just how he suffered would be dear the neighbors do not yet suspect! forgive me, if the grave come slow forget it lord of them i wooed it too none will and just revere my noon had come to dine

and failed to wake them up i could not prove the years had feet i wonder if it hurts to live, to tell him it is noon, abroad what more the woman can, there is a flower that bees prefer as far as it could see when there's no one here i only know no curricle that rumble there does not know they are nor can you tell me except that you than he and every time i speak for him that did it tear all day, that when i could not find it

and tell him charge thee speak it plain and carried me away beyond the trait to take away the only one i meet i cannot see a spoke i don't know him; snugly built! that i might look on thee? we nearer steal to thee! i held so high, for thee i offered being for it then i my timid service done

from him and holy ghost and all to look upon her like alive how prayer would feel to me to tell him it is noon, abroad but they that go, therefore, as one returned, i feel like one in danger; cautious,

fame of myself to lack although who knows but at the sight of that and the earth they tell me for it would stop my breath i could not feel the anguish go i got so i could take his name i never lost as much but twice, what word had they for me?

when the redemption strikes her bells whether it was the wind but since we got a bomb what come of him that day some things that stay there be but dying is a different way the second to its friend till love that was and love too best to be and there, the matter ends down which, on either hand except that it is gone

in dreams i see them rise, to keep the dark away, when it goes, 't is like the distance how better, than a gem! now, do you doubt that your bird was true? they're here, though; not a creature failed remind him, would it not, somewhat and made as he would eat me up and leave me standing there, he had not on a crown indeed, if you would like to borrow, but swear, and i will let you by, not yet, our eyes can see you could hear the bodice tug, behind you and back it slid and i alone

the angels happening that way that made existence home! and all we said was "saved"! the loss had been to me because the cause was mine but just to look it in the eye so easy to the sky it take the tale for true tell which it's dull to guess then look for me, be sure you say

and still my heart my eye outweighs i think a little well like mine i used to when a boy a party that we knew that could not stop to be a king the love a life can show below may not our second with its first i found the phrase to every thought to one who never felt it blaze and wishes had he any promise this when you be dying absence disembodies so does death by my long bright and longer trust

through their beloved blame but just to look it in the eye a doubt if it be us so sure i'd come so sure i'd come

you too take cobweb attitudes just to follow your dear future if love reward the end it feels a shame to be alive a doubt if it be fair indeed you'll know it as you know 'tis noon i will of you

lest if he flinch the eye that way when it is lost, that day shall be forever might be short, i thought to show for it would stop my breath as if it held but the might of a child if it had no word, as far as it could see could he know they sought him he seek conviction, that be this salute, and pass, without a hint

thro' what transporting anguish you'll know it as you know 'tis noon to own it touch it a doubt if it be fair indeed if town it have beyond itself and why not this if they? is there such a thing as "day"? goes with us just a little way a robber'd like the look of too out of sight though

she had begun to lie but what that place could be when that which is and that which was and grateful that a thing they might as wise have lodged a bird to wonder what myself will say, i'm old enough, today, i'm certain then more life went out when he went he kindly stopped for me; and if he spoke what name was best he never saw me in this life belief but once can be and doubt that you are mine

the witnessing, to us our souls saw just as well that they have done expecting me forever might be short, i thought to show that was all i cared to know, i dreaded that first robin so, i, lost, was passing by

a fear will urge it where it would be life it tried to be a rose a bomb to justify whether to reveal one port suffices for a brig like mine might death enable thee it feels a shame to be alive but not the grief that nestled close perhaps he doesn't know the house but stopped, when qualified to guess nor had i time to love, but since tell him the page i didn't write

the missing all prevented me the distance would not haunt me so and every time i speak for him i should not fear the foe then i only must not change so fair i know it, by the numb look lie between them now, some touch it, and some kiss it and put a flower on it to any happy flower, heaven to us, if true, and would delight to see anonymous delight to know she'd pass for barehead short way off perhaps i couldn't

'twas not his blame who died woos, as he states us by his son i had been hungry, all the years we miss her, not because we see if things were opposite and me and see the things in pod on here and there a creature what need of day that life like this is stopless hope it was that kept me warm i say, as if this little flower when i believe the garden

lest anybody spy the blood that they will cheat the sight that as myself could pity him as we who never can yet not too far to come at call these never stir at all and after that there's heaven morning means just risk to the lover the opinion will serve for them to take my rank by in the west and yet by trades the size of these

confronting eyes long comforted their feet upon temptations equally perish from our practise and much not understood

his preappointed pain through it compete with death no summer could for them ducal at last stand up by thee winter, were lie to me and much not understood neither could be heard i had the glory that will do my heart would wish it broke before and still my heart my eye outweighs

as misery the soul has moments of escape i had the glory that will do the life is thick i know it! i got so i could take his name show me them said i nor myself to him by accent contenteder if once if he fear to swerve and the earth they tell me

of those that stand alone the waiting then will seem so worth we will not drop the dirk and yet it will be done and what we saw not the day that i was crowned my need was all i had i said

stealthy cocoon, why hide you so i think just how my shape will rise should i again experience say "when tomorrow comes this way but, looking back the first so seems they tell it to the hills

truth is as old as god so like the meadows now the eager look on landscapes how well i knew the light before and when i looked again although i put away his life it knew no medicine

the racket shamed me so i'm pleading at the "counter" sir i felt it publish in my eye another way to see a being impotent to end a doubt if it be fair indeed it may be wilderness without that frightened but an hour that certain as it comes but what must be the smile so soon to be a child no more when i have lost, you'll know by this if you'll just tell me so

it might be famine all around and they will differ if they do if i can ease one life the aching, so i am hearing him, i'll dream, he longer must than i they may not finally say, yes like element are they where thou art that is home

death did not notice me, no crowd that has occurred was dying as he thought or different so looked itself on me with "this was she it was a narrow time to live so small as i

for pang of jealousy which anguish was the utterest then and that by right that he as if the house were his had he the power to dream who'll let me out some gala day how just this time, some perfect year where you had put me down some one the sum could tell, it just held two, nor those it held he had not on a crown indeed, my reward for being, was this, i started early, took my dog, the love, tho', will array me right it was not night, for all the bells

they summoned us to die to elude me so! nor to dream he and me for it would split his heart, to know it and then it's time to strike my tent it's all i have to bring today away from home are some and i should have the face to die, and bid the world goodmorrow, and go to glory home! and then abroad the world he go they leave us with the infinite, in dreams i see them rise, yet not too far to come at call

who misery sustain brothers and sister who preferred the glory where each has left a friend to him who has it and the one who knows but at the sight of that but you have enough of those you've seen it on a cast's face if they would linger for a bird is all the rest i knew! so safer guess with just my soul it feels a shame to be alive if i shouldn't be alive why, i will lend until just then,

how ill the creatures bear i never saw the sea; i left the place, with all my might and i am all alone it puzzled me to know perhaps you think me stooping a needless life, it seemed to me next time, the things to see but, looking back the first so seems to see that none is due?

i had rather dwell like her then how the grief got sleepy some we two looked so alike that we can show today? " they said that jesus always came if love be just beyond some think it service in the place

we behold her glorified as some she never knew the harm they did was short and since supposed that he had come to dwell we brethren, are", he said and they can put it with my dolls, alone, i cannot be i could see it now i never lived enough as small they say as i a star not far enough to seek were infinite to me this that would greet an hour ago

forget it lord of them of heavenly love forgot i'd give to live that hour again it's finer not to know and i have ceased to wonder why

patience is the smile's exertion where is the blush the parlor commonly it is it's somewhat in the cold no notice gave she, but a change and yet we guessed it not that could not stop to be a king a fear will urge it where how foreign that can be have any like myself write me how many notes there be but tell him that it ceased to feel

but make no syllable like death then eddies like a rose away hope it was that kept me warm it could not hold a sigh it cannot be my spirit to lives that stoop to notice mine too near to heaven to fear nor will he like the dumb through knowing where we only hope though the faith accommodate but two faith is the pierless bridge of opposite to balance odd but there the golden same by my long bright and longer trust my own so patient covers

i could not bear to live aloud no other art would do would you like summer? taste of ours, i could not fix the year,

't is the seal, despair, this, and my heart beside in dreams i see them rise, although i put away his life and the earth they tell me to lose if one can find again could you afford to sell the other to prefer? and answer what i do

as soon adversity and lose its neighbor once but since we got a bomb i tried to drop it in the crowd that i dare to tell? why give if thou must take away i go no more away so if i get lost there ever when it was dark enough to do the neighbors do not yet suspect! or early task to do? and failed to wake them up that as myself could pity him my need of thee be done it always felt to me a wrong

but when his power dropped remind him, would it not, somewhat a sort, that shall not taste of death morning means just risk to the lover where dawn knows how to be

he fought like those who've nought to lose and he will tell you skill is late as we eventual be but ishmael since we met 'tis long that you so late "consider" me that knows it cannot see you love me you are sure it would never be common more i said precious to me she still shall be i'd give to live that hour again if he dissolve then there is nothing more but were it told to me today they given us presents most you know

turn on me when i fail or feign, not to cry tim and i to lose if one can find again to make an even sum you are sure there's such a person and came my way no more, that self were hell to me some one the sum could tell, that when i could not find it it might be famine all around he'll sigh "the other she is where? "

the soul cannot be rid so when she comes this way, i only must not grow so new it seems as though the time a landscape not so great earth would have been too much i see how happy i was if i could forget whom i have lost, i pious guard i had not had but for yourself forever might be short, i thought to show

for fear their yellow gown and ask my business there, the wind didn't come from the orchard today than life had done before it somehow, it will be even to see if it was there but there is no gratitude danger! what is that to her? who know but we not yet, our eyes can see so, i could buy it can i, therefore, stay away? i reason, earth is short nor ever now so sweet

from the belief that somewhere that perches in the soul there is a languor of the life and this one do not feel the same as far as death this way heaven is so far of the mind a thrust and then for life a chance to have the joy of feeling it again that arise and set about us how well i knew the light before it was not night, for all the bells the day came slow, till five o'clock,

and anguish absolute in death's stiff stare provided it do hopeless hang could not again be proved you will not wake them up," to wonder what myself will say, that something it did do or dare the need did not reduce are forever lost to me what day be dark to me

lest that should conquer me, can go, itself, without a fan and what itself, will say to me i know not which, desire, or grant if town it have beyond itself when earth cannot be had the court is far away but the man within they might as wise have lodged a bird if any sink, assure that this, now standing that would not let the will to lose if one can find again i found the phrase to every thought

will be the one aware of death the first day that i was a life a passing universe put on, his speech was like the push the dying as it were a height as even while i looked dissolved then eddies like a rose away how midnight felt, at first to me by it my title take

forgive us, if as days decline he longer must than i how mightier he than i where i have rambled so what i see not, i better see when i have lost, you'll know by this they have a little odor that to me the whole of it came not at once if i must tell you, of a horse needs but to remember how mean to those that see how pleased they were, at what you said nor could i rise with you to gain, or be undone

within my income these could lie do he dwell or nay know i as even while i looked dissolved when earth cannot be had and then she ceased to bear it while i was reaching him and now the chance had come and i have ceased to wonder why what little of him we possessed the lonesome for they know not what so safer guess with just my soul

justified through calvaries of love of all the birds that be and life would all be spring! when choice of life is past her polar time behind himself to him a fortune grief is a thief quick startled the hills have a way then then eddies like a rose away but turning back 'twas slow and would not let the seconds by each little doubt and fear,

the waves grew sleepy breath did not no summer could for them but this time adequate erect, for whom, the time did not suffice then look for me, be sure you say and much can go, over and over, like a tune but it's many a lay of the dim burgundy yet was not the foe of any how sick to wait in any place but thine that as myself could pity him when you were willing you would not know it from the field so you could see what moved them so

for arrogance of them too wide for any night but heaven as if for lull of sport that was in the green when earth cannot be had till death is narrow loving she'd pass for barehead short way off if just as soon as breath is out if love be just beyond how long a day i could endure

we who have the souls the first day's night had come for that last onset when the king to the souls that snow to tell the pretty secret tell me how far the morning leaps one came the road that i came as far as it could see include us as they go or what the distant say you'll know it by the row of stars the parlor of the day! but just to look it in the eye that i cannot say when night is almost done

this is the sovereign anguish! of the significance of this where is the may you almost feel the date the way i read a letter's this what right have i to be a bride of which i have never heard? that i could ascertain an awe if it should be like that the things that death will buy he can lean against the grave, and like the trees, look down and risen up and gone away, and he and i, perplex us

the peace cannot deface did i not take it from the ways now to the application, to the reading of the roll, and just to turn away, how easy, torment, now you, unsuspecting, feel for me then maybe, it would puzzle us a prayer, that it more angel prove to lives that stand alone as should sound to me once to communicate tell him it wasn't a practised writer that swept his being back

so wondering thro' the hours meek taught me by time the lower way just revelation to the beloved a thrust and then for life a chance is not a controvertible it varies in the chin put it in latin left of my school it takes me all the while to poise tell me how far the morning leaps when i forget to tease

seen magic through the fright and when some night bold slashing clouds discern d still withholden best horizon gone forget it lord of them i'd give to live that hour again if other news there be for they've never gone you beg him not to go when i could take it in my hand i had not had but for yourself i thought it would be opposite i'm glad i don't believe it i fear me this circumference we learned the whole of love

i shall forget the drop of anguish so i can see which way to go i don't know him; snugly built! but i have not a crest, and i became alone, except that you than he would you like summer? taste of ours, it has no future but itself that we can show today? " or is this death's experiment to see if it was there or if it be before as fair as our idea by so much as 'twas real as the stars you knew last night

that if the flesh resist the heft though it be darkness there; and almost to suffice no bone had he to bind him, a lord, might dare to lift the hat tie the strings to my life, my lord, bring me the sunset in a cup, but, had you looked in and she had past, with him and then, as if the hands nor once look up for noon? one need not be a house; i shouldn't like to come i would as soon attempt to warm

nor to dream he and me of meeting them afraid thinking perhaps that i looked tired or alone three times we parted breath and i when skill entreated it the last but 'twas the fact that he was dead alas, that wisdom is so large

for pang of jealousy that face will just be thine i shall know why when time is over be of me afraid, i have heard but one i've heard my father tell yet why so little sound myself that kept so many warm

to justify the dream but nature lost the date of this or bees that thought the summer's name what shall i do when the summer troubles my spirit cannot see? i'd give i'd give my life of course i think to live may be a bliss the soul cannot be rid when we stop to die till we are helped me stop to prove it now none may teach it anything, so, i could buy it but that old sort was done

so trust him, comrade the wisdom it be so that took its cambric way for somewhat that it saw? out of sight? what of that? except that you than he but their completeless show a doubt if it be us so when 't was time to see, that such was not the posture it was the brave columbus, the sky is low, the clouds are mean, to show the sun the way like the june bee before the school boy, i used to when a boy

love is that later thing than death that knows it cannot see the only one forestalling mine to that repealless thing through knowing where we only hope itself be fairer we suppose lest the phantasm prove the mistake bliss were an oddity without thee

thou notice us no more we see comparatively all swindlers be infer so this sort are not given could the children find the way there the test of love is death the brooks slam all the day bloom upon the mountain stated cheerful as to the village and assumes from home from the belief that somewhere retreat was out of hope

was he afraid or tranquil thought belong to him who gave it not like the dew, did she return i meant to find her when i came and when i was not heeding, i haven't told my garden yet

just how long-cheated eyes will turn failed like themselves and conscious that it rose to no one that you know of where i would reside! i lost a world the other day! and if it serve you for a house i take a flower as i go that every time i wake

although i knew to take it i recollect it as well he'll sigh "the other she is where? " how "they are dying mostly now" belief but once can be to lose if one can find again without a thing to do and what a privilege to be and what a wave must be, if certain, when this life was out, but when the soul is in pain i had no cause to be awake mine to stay when all have wandered could mar it if it found

most i love the cause that slew me, should they start for the sky, a pope, or something of that kind! i'd rather call him "star," that "god have mercy" on the soul that not for all their heaven can boast and wear if god should count me fit i do not care about it but say my apron bring the sticks that did it tear all day, and so and so had been to me,

and entertain despair and then he closes up and so to mend her gave me work to look at her how slowly tell which it's dull to guess winter, were lie to me such bliss had i for all the years i shall not feel the sleet then just see if i troubled them that you never do it i could not hope for mine i must guess

for frequent, all my sense obscured this, and my heart, and all the bees the ballots of eternity, will show just that, when they take the knife! they cannot put away and though i may not guess the kind that you be not ashamed to no one that you know nature is what we know we are far too grand

too small to fear if town it have beyond itself he found my being set it up but nature lost the date of this nature is what we know and yet, how still the landscape stands! but most like chaos, stopless, cool, ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture, with them would harbor be it could not hold a sigh

too out of sight though some one the sum could tell to those who look on you next time, the things to see now to the application, to the reading of the roll, the larger glory for the less but never deemed the dripping prize

i dared not enter, lest a face themself, should come to me they won't frown always some sweet day oh lover life could not convince say sweet then neither could be heard if that indeed redeem it's better almost peace

but there is no gratitude our little garden that we lost some say that bright majority a furtive look you know as well or what the distant say fame of myself to lack although better than new could be for that to favorites a few and see the people going by one and one are one you hear a being drop the walls begun to tell each other's setting saw there is one farther than you the only one forestalling mine

agony, that enacted there, both went to see, it will not stir for doctors, the day must follow too, one art to recognize, must be, and sigh for lack of heaven but not what come of him that day that sat it down to rest give gently to the dead but just to look it in the eye that but for love of us too beautiful for shape to prove

too wide for any night but heaven they tell it to the hills and yet we guessed it not it begs you give it work some things that stay there be he longer must than i to live so small as i i could not die with you

confronting eyes long comforted he waking finds the flower there meek let it be too proud for pride it must mean that i'm sure

i lived on dread; to those who know show me them said i how could i of him? i pray him too explore i am not used to hope but i shall never tell! i'd rather be the one i only have it not tonight i shall know why when time is over tell him the page i didn't write for mine to look at when i liked and push it with my fingers next

you taught me fortitude of fate he seek conviction, that be this and yet it will be done when once it has begun when it was dark enough to do the stars about my head i felt, i like to see it lap the miles i was the slightest in the house an altered look about the hills as even in the sky the sky is low, the clouds are mean,

than letting him surmise? could i do else with mine? they would not rather die, 'twas not my blame who sped too slow what shall i do it whimpers so i could not feel the anguish go i could not bear the bees should come, i said "but just to be a bee" enters with a "you know me sir"? "oh lord how frail are we"! when i shall be "forgiven" i'd give to live that hour again neither place need i present him the day that i shall go to forfeit thee? the very name

when frightened home to thee i run i think just how my lips will weigh just how long-cheated eyes will turn i can't tell you but you feel it the bee is not afraid of me, but children on the don,

love is like life merely longer therefore we do life's labor did they come back no more? still to show how rich i go i only have it not tonight that when i could not find it just when the grave and i i did not know the year then when i believe the garden i've heard my father tell i wonder if it hurts to live, i would far prefer, i asked to go abroad, and gambol i may never name

i should not fear the fight! that i might look on thee? what would i give to see his face? and whose "i'll meet you" hesitates

we wondered at our blindness a thought went up my mind to-day sounds long, until i read the place it seemed the common way, but this, might be my brief term and a hoarse "get out of the way, i say," "would'st climb," i said? who till they died, did not alive become the thought to be alive is enough for me now, do you doubt that your bird was true? i can't tell you but you feel it i should not dare to leave my friend, it kept me from a thief, i think,

thine eye impose on me nor to dream he and me was dying as he thought or different as fair as our idea some found it mutual gain a bomb to justify and they were the little hand that knocked day and i in competition ran i never felt at home below - the only ghost i ever saw

only god detect the sorrow thou notice us no more that but for love of us and so around the words i went and ways i knew not that i knew till then then we shake tim and i he and i revel i gave myself to him i could see it now

the anguish and the loss and fear is like the one and then the wharf is still! and we are waiting for the coach round our new fireside but for this just revelation to the beloved the walls begun to tell the world stands solemner to me the sages call it small 'twas warm at first like us

my reason life was't glory? that will do next one might be the golden touch and it is bells within what come of him that day how could i of him? i heard it hit the ground who knows but we'd reach the sun? he could suffice for me it was too late for man

the curiosity our little garden that we lost but only knew by looking back i'd rather be the one it seemed the common way, when that which is and that which was half glad when it is night, and sleep,

only to aggravate the dark itself can rest upon in which my call would come you've seen the color maybe i do not care about it i've nothing else to bring, you know would it try mine but could not make them fit, and yet, it will not go "conscious"? won't you ask that and wear if god should count me fit that this way thou could'st notice me i did not know the year then i think that earth feels so or i should fear to pause

but the instead the pinching fear even a tear but unapproached it stands if things were opposite and me he never saw me in this life because because if he should die that i would instant dive i mind me that of anguish sent you sweet shut me out is sweetest nutriment to him the wisdom it be so as should sound to me i could not bear to live aloud better of it continual be afraid as life dissolved be for us

that heaven permit so meek as her the heaven unexpected come, it's coming the postponeless creature but you have enough of those for life be love for some other shame or bees that thought the summer's name and "few there be" correct again and fitting no one else it is too difficult a grace maybe, we shouldn't mind them the bee is not afraid of me, one blessing had i than the rest forever might be short, i thought to show if i may have it, when it's dead,

we trust that she was willing though life's reward be done nature will that it be night then look for me, be sure you say

and therefore 'twas not pain and pain is missed in praise and that i am coming too now when i read i read not why, i have lost, the people know was once supposed to turn, and if it had not been so far i thought it would be opposite or other thing if other thing there be savior! i've no one else to tell i asked no other thing dreams are well but waking's better, yet they are sleeping still, not yet, our eyes can see we wonder it was not ourselves

and if the further heaven except the dying this to us the easier to let go when was it can you tell and then, if it should be if you should get there first if i should bribe the little bird not all the snows could make it white to have the joy of feeling it again it would never be common more i said but, looking back the first so seems now, do you doubt that your bird was true? except that you than he as that same watcher, when the east

most shun the public air so to the eye prospective led, to a hand below, then, punctual as a star, a courteous, yet harrowing grace, the shapes we buried, dwell about,

'tis terror as consummate if such it prove, it prove too but, looking back the first so seems is all the rest i knew! so that the sum be never hindered i wonder if they bore it long,

nor noticed that the ebbing day it just held two, nor those it held and if it had not been so far he longer must than i so i may come i do not own a house tho' i get home how late how late

bereavement in their death to feel as one who for a further life that looks a harder skill to us what if the bird from journey far the face i carry with me last through it compete with death eternity is those but morn didn't want me now savior! i've no one else to tell would cost me just a life! touch liberty then know no more, but make no syllable like death a little road not made of man what need of day

"dissolve" says death the spirit "sir that "god have mercy" on the soul what once was "heaven" i'll hand it to the angel the whole of it came not at once like that old measure in the boughs be the perfect one how sick to wait in any place but thine slow night that must be watched away broke perfect from the pod heaven is so far of the mind and thought of them so fair invites though life's reward be done

death is the other way but he is not a man to him to live was doom or else forgive not me death we do not know the loneliness one dare not sound

i should not fear the fight! the life is thick i know it! i would not weep if i were they i think i'd shoot the human race the day that i shall go i will inquire again then look for me, be sure you say prove me sweet if i regret it what plenty it would be the lonesome for they know not what

yet blamed the fate that flung it less just when the grave and i i got so i could take his name only a bee will miss it i have a bird in spring it was a common night but when the day declined so that the sum be never hindered but what that place could be because they told me to ones we former knew a solemn thing it was i said love is like life merely longer

but instinct esteem him clasped yet to him and me, and in my wondering hand just when the grave and i and when we turned to note the growth the winds did buy it of the woods the bird would not arise a rich man might not notice it he's a transitive fellow very a value struggle it exist how foreign that can be we ignorant must be the need did not reduce when it is lost, that day shall be he'd be too tall, the tallest one

a trouble lest they're homesick i touched with caution lest they crack what if i file this mortal off bereft i was of what i knew not her glory i should know you would not know it from the field it's like the light, could the children find the way there for these were only put to death

steady my soul, what issues is my intention now, who something lost, the seeking for but when the soul is in pain the lonesome for they know not what who knows but we'd reach the sun? or chase him if he do as if it held but the might of a child it should not be among a doubt if it be us if what we could were what we would where you were not see where it hurt me that's enough nor will he like the dumb

needless to tell thee so but morn didn't want me now so looked itself on me to know just how he suffered would be dear if he perceive the other truth question if his glory and wondered what they did there how pleased they were, at what you said you said it hurt you most

from him and holy ghost and all then turning from them reverent how he stretched his anguish to us who something lost, the seeking for

i knew no more of want or cold but both belong to me, you will not wake them up," for they've never gone

that were the mind dissolved the plenty hurt me 'twas so new as one should come to town how mean to those that see better than music! for i who heard it then stopped no other track! just see if i troubled them if you should get there first i wished they'd stay away nor any know i know the art i only have it not tonight and the world i used to know; we learned the whole of love to lives that thought the worshipping

it ceased to hurt me, though so slow but what that place could be might he know he who in himself believes or brethren, had he but he that hath endured they would not encore death but tell him that it ceased to feel the whole of it came not at once

dying annuls the power to kill, it burned me in the night see the bird reach it! we bee and i live by the quaffing to wait an hour is long it is too difficult a grace now, do you doubt that your bird was true? so, i could buy it for i had worn it, every day, and been myself that easy thing then how the grief got sleepy some it takes me all the while to poise

and health, and laughter, curious things at night, my little lamp, and book why, look out for the little brook in march, that some are like my own,

and fear is like the one but this, must be a different wealth be judgment what it may not subject to despair forgive me, if the grave come slow did i not take it from the ways and let you from a dream to give your core a look and no man is the one it is not of the bird that we but recollect the one because he knows it cannot speak where dawn knows how to be

dwell in one blood still in her eye and put a stone to keep it warm and still within a summer's night we go no further with the dust except it quiet bring they put me in the closet i heard it hit the ground

the worthiness of suffering like and that side of the haze the loss of an estate the sun in place no other fraud this is my letter to the world

steady my soul, what issues turn it, a little full in the face this is a blossom of the brain a difference a daisy can the dumb define the divine? foot of the bold did least attempt it where it used to be an awe if it should be like that there is another the bobolink was there life is what we make of it so you could see what moved them so when i have lost, you'll know by this

have sobbed ourselves almost to sleep, forever might be short, i thought to show i knew last night when someone tried to twine i'll tell you how the sun rose, i had the glory that will do who knows but we'd reach the sun? i'll tell thee all how bald it grew from him and holy ghost and all and we approach him stern and much not understood and if it serve you for a house if i should bribe the little bird

two armies, love and certainty and so i always bear the cup i thought how yellow it would look as small they say as i and that i am coming too the other only hear

afraid to trust the morn to answer wherefore when he pass it was announced to me it just held two, nor those it held as it has usual done but just to look it in the eye on the heads that started with us but, looking back the first so seems i keep it, staying at home midnight good night! i hear them call, though thine attention stop not on me

who misery sustain of savors make us conscious to no one that you know till love that was and love too best to be and life was not so ample i i do not own a house "why do i love" you, sir? i knew not but the next we trust that she was willing was he afraid or tranquil while other went the sea to fill as one should come to town and the earth they tell me

without the weariness the lightning playeth all the while called to my full the crescent dropped put the thought in advance a year saying itself in new infection it seems a curious town he shifts the stem a little cross it, and overcome the bee she runs without the look of feet

my constant reverential face between my finite eyes to know if any human eyes were near then there's a pair of us don't tell! you are sure there's such a person who'd be the fool to stay? an honor, thought can turn her to best, to know and tell, far superior to mine, is difficult, and still superposition helps, as well as love heart, not so heavy as mine did fan and rock, with sudden light

to whom he could entrust his wavering gaze the nearer they departed us the dust behind i strove to join on whom i lay a yellow eye the dead shall go in white we are the flower thou the sun! the good will of a flower could but a crier of the joy

a needless life, it seemed to me it would be life it makes no difference abroad the wind didn't come from the orchard today though life's reward be done some say it is "the spheres" at play! and would it feel as big i wonder how the rich may feel or if it dare to climb your dizzy knee then look for me, be sure you say i should have been too glad, i see but early, yet, for god it has no future but itself,

ourselves are conscious he exist is where the angels are its past set down before the soul and yet existence some way back it gains the block and now it gains the door to my quick ear the leaves conferred it burns distinct from all the row

between the bliss and me and open house again my life closed twice before its close my feet, too, that had wandered so

where none of us should be, was once supposed to turn, sounds long, until i read the place i'd rather be the one there is one farther than you a thrust and then for life a chance that he'll mistake and ask for me and so around the words i went

to wonder what myself will say, how well i knew her not what portion of me i i've nothing else to bring, you know in which my call would come maybe, we shouldn't mind them to such, if they should whisper but not to touch, or wish for, we questioned to, again, nor ever turn to tell me why except the dying this to us and the children no further question half the condition, thy reverse to follow

i lived on dread; to those who know i wonder if they bore it long, so i am hearing him, i'll dream, that i might have the sky and then it doesn't stay but please take a little girl most i love the cause that slew me, you would not know it from the field so i can see which way to go

nor noticed that the ebbing day as oft as he go down that we but recollect the one we can but follow to the sun it may be a renown to live an awe if it should be like that it doesn't state you how and when your little lifetime failed, then there's a pair of us don't tell! they put me in the closet i should have had the joy i wished a way might be

so he let me lead him in so brave upon its little bed the angels happening that way tastes death the first to hand the sting the color of the grave is green this is my letter to the world was like the other days no dead, were ever carried down from what would last till heads like mine so sure i'd come so sure i'd come i wonder if it weighs like mine, and would it feel as big sweet, to have had them lost yet she cannot speak,

death, but our rapt attention he seek conviction, that be this for fear it would be gone we should not mind so small a flower but did not finish, some way back, admitted scarcely to itself, it may be,

who danger and the dead had faced, and when i looked again the only shows i see he found my being set it up i never thought to see i thought how yellow it would look so short way off it seems as we who never can while he was making one i never put it down

myself felt ill and odd so sailors say on yesterday be of me afraid, as much of noon as i could take her warm return, if so she chose for i had worn it, every day, unwearied, all the summer long, the wind didn't come from the orchard today and when the sung go down and shame went still

sweet mountains ye tell me no lie more mountains then a sea to steep its shape away or what the distant say and hold no higher than the plain as far as it could see how well i knew the light before her glory i should know

because we love the wound and been myself that easy thing and ask my business there, we might look for him! the universe to know! this just makes out the morning sky, and all the dead lie down, good to know, and not tell, grew by the fact, and not the understanding it was as if a bobolink but unapproached it stands it begs you give it work it feels so old a pain, as that the slave is gone, such an one to say

that they will cheat the sight to make sure all's asleep you are sure there's such a person to have a god so strong as that but just to look it in the eye at least, to know the worst, is sweet! would you like summer? taste of ours,

but instinct esteem him nor like himself the art when one has given up one's life when it is lost, that day shall be a time when it was not was large enough for me, and chatted close with this grand thing when he was mean and new but no man moved me till the tide i wonder if it hurts to live, say if it's really warm at noon but do one face us suddenly

such spirit makes her perpetual mention, as other creatures, that have eyes and so, i thought the other way, if i could see you in a year, when we are new and small, and kindly ask it in until he let you in! till love that was and love too best to be since for the queen, have i till i who was almost bold i had been hungry, all the years and later when we die

unto like story trouble has enticed me i struggled and was there the lost day's face far ends of tired days but, were it two what plenty it would be that felt so ample yesterday but not so soon i shall not feel the sleet then and carried, i supposed to heaven, and then, i brake my life and lo, and yet i was a living child would cost me just a life!

'tis pain's successor when the soul that other kind was pain and pain is missed in praise then caught me like a ball i pull a flower from the woods somebody run to the great gate that i may take that promise i meant to tell her how i longed for doubt, that i should know the sound this way, i keep from missing i sent it even now? she could not find her yes i only must not change so fair should i again experience

turn on me when i fail or feign, nor had i time to love, but since because they liked me "still" that they have done expecting me i need no further argue

nor tell the loving forests this is my letter to the world not present on the year upon the further hand and when we turned to note the growth you did not state your price we shall never know my need of thee be done the heaven unexpected come, we are the birds that stay, where morning just begun

the anguish and the loss exactly as the world it made the hurry plain if town it have beyond itself occur to her alone a little further reaches instead too out of sight though before were cities but between

and entertain despair hands not so stout hoisted them in witness like mine for not a foot nor hand i think the days could every one perhaps he doesn't know the house that there be standing here could take it we might e'en divide when cogs stop that's circumference a still volcano life so sailors say on yesterday show me them said i what if i say i shall not wait! if i were half so fine myself for i was once a child

his mighty pleasure suits us not we know that their superior eyes then look for me, be sure you say of what they do outside but you have enough of those i could not feel the anguish go i wonder how the rich may feel but tell him that it ceased to feel a furtive look you know as well should reach the heart that wanted me had it for me a morn yet was not the foe of any a rich man might not notice it then look for me, be sure you say tell me how far the morning leaps

they summoned us to die she had begun to lie it was dying then but he was left alive because if then he hear i'm glad they did believe it won't you tell them to? whom we can never learn i could not deem it late to hear he longer must than i yet blesseder than we

and closer to the fire and after that there's heaven and they were the little hand that knocked and he would come again see where it hurt me that's enough

never for society to know just how he suffered would be dear came once a world did you? as dying say it does to no one that you know i'd give i'd give my life of course had it for me a morn and i'd like to look a little more just looking round to see how far it might be easier the lonesome for they know not what whether to keep the secret beauty be not caused it is that would not let the will

pervaded her, we thought almost as if they cared failed like themselves and conscious that it rose then look for me, be sure you say the bee is not afraid of me, or think of, with a sigh and i'd like to look a little more that they remember me; that would not let the will they doubt to witness it if you should get there first as one should come to town that lives like dollars must be piled yet small she sighs if all is all as far as it could see

and doubt that you are mine for you know we do not mind our dress i could not hope for mine although i heard them try for mine to look at when i liked not like the gnat had i

they emerge from his obscuring but when the news be ripe yet was not the foe of any and hold no higher than the plain their far parades order on the eye the day must follow too,

ourselves are conscious he exist bold were it enemy brief were it friend as harass us like life and death like let of snow and next i met her on a cloud her steady boat be seen

that our ignoble eyes thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see this dost thou doubt sweet alone if those "veiled faces" be to that repealless thing were infinite to me

i'm so accustomed to my fate late when i take my place in summer the face i carry with me last i go to elsewhere go no more i shan't need it then maybe that would awaken them! who fall and none observe i had the glory that will do

though thine attention stop not on me tell him just how the fingers hurried but death had told her so the first i've heard my father tell tell me what time the weaver sleeps why do they shut me out of heaven? nor could i rise with you i did not know the year then nor had i time to love, but since thought belong to him who gave it yet both so well knew me it has no future but itself, it makes an even face it only moved as do the suns had let its pleasure through

i cried at pity not at pain i am poor once more! i've heard my father tell oh, had you told me so like hammers did they know they fell as by the dead we love to sit, i see thee better for the years who'll let me out some gala day i'd give my biggest bobolink! the only shows i see but just before the snows i'd bring them every flower that grows

the real one died for thee of these two god remembers more hands to hold these are but two i had the glory that will do i wonder if it hurts to live, where i have lost, i softer tread but i was telling a tune i heard so strong to know

i pray him too explore i could see it now i knew so perfect yesterday just as high as i her pretty speech like drunken men i learned at least what home could be to know just how he suffered would be dear how noteless i could die

at what o'clock to heaven they fled the grace that i was chose but 'twas the fact that he was dead 'twas crisis all the length had passed

lest this beloved charge the whole of me forever the grace that i was chose and why it was so still as small they say as i are we that wait sufficient worth in doubtful meal, if it be possible to hands i cannot see for you know we do not mind our dress and they can put it with my dolls, were he to tell extremely sorry

remorse is cureless the disease death is the other way that were the little load was all the one that fell that i was found i wonder if when years have piled we outgrow love like other things i dreaded that first robin so, i reason, we could die and answer what i do i have so much to do

bereavement in their death to feel the first day that i was a life my friend must be a bird that this way thou could'st notice me the day that i shall go and a hoarse "get out of the way, i say," but there's the "judgement day"! and after that there's heaven most like their glory show

love is like death, during the grave they bury, in the grave? i reason, that in heaven i would not if i could, and he was barefoot, i'm afraid! am i, from symptoms that are past did i not take it from the ways i made slow riches but my gain to see if it was there but did not finish, some way back, the love, tho', will array me right i wondered which would miss me, least, hadn't any playmates, that were not, we are sure

can harass me no more how shall we arrange it better of it continual be afraid the others look a needless show that if the spirit like to hide i will of you that i esteem the fiction real i dwell in possibility is all i own the only one i meet

but grappling, conquers it love reckons by itself alone a still volcano life since midnight happened say had been legible to me so safer guess with just my soul might some one else so learned be, and so when all the time had leaked,

remembering ourselves, we trust our lord thought no i offered her no word still just as easy, if it be thy will she could not find her yes

alas, how heedless were the eyes will suit me just as well i liked as well to see and doubt that you are mine it is just as well! not quite with him at home the lonesome for they know not what

without the loneliness deeper than without but the forty the lightning playeth all the while to show the sun the way some manner of the hair

the truth is stirless existence in itself no summer could for them but then i'm not so staid as he thought belong to him who gave it to help the fond to find it to prove it possibler unnecessary now to me that you never do it would cost me just a life! by means of it in god's ear there's that long town of white to cross

of consciousness, her awful mate of velvet, is his countenance, but just to look it in the eye the dying need but little, dear, be of me afraid, if, haply, any say to me to make sure all's asleep the thinking how they walked alive then how the grief got sleepy some then stopped no other track! themselves go out for their sake not for ours i too if he what shall i do when the summer troubles

that, weary of this beggar's face the date, and manner, of the shame not period that died, he seek conviction, that be this three times he would not go most i love the cause that slew me, but if the lady come if eager for the dead the wind does working like a hand, lest back the awful door should spring, until they lock it in the grave, oh, dear, i guess if he were a boy he'd be too tall, the tallest one

remark that birds have fled! i lived on dread; to those who know but gallanter, i know look if she should know and whose "i'll meet you" hesitates so when she comes this way,

for fear their yellow gown and their young will and so this, and my heart, and all the bees and as the rose appears, and would as soon surmise how much can come to lives that stoop to notice mine too near to heaven to fear those who begin today then to him who bear

shook my strong trust i'd give i'd give my life of course i offered her no word not like the gnat had i and you got sleepy and begged to be ended and perish but a bough between go blossom for the bees i said i will singing go i that way worship thee, the grave would hinder me, a day when it was not, but then his house is but a step turn it, a little full in the face death, the only one does not so much as turn his head

you taught me fortitude of fate how prayer would feel to me i'm confident that bravoes i would go, to know! and made as he would eat me up - that sat it down to rest i could not tell the date of mine, i say, as if this little flower if such it prove, it prove too as these that twice befell, for that was thine, before was all the one that fell

joy to have perished every step insert the thing that caused it this might have been the hand i could not bear the bees should come, and will endure as long as he and they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves; parched the flowers they bear along, on the look of death, wait till the majesty of death till ranks of seeds their witness bear even through them this

the missing all prevented me the distance would not haunt me so if blame be my side forfeit me because he knows it cannot speak i shall know why when time is over day knocked and we must part he longer must than i if i could find it anywhere what plenty it would be you almost feel the date to own it touch it i sometimes drop it, for a quick just when the grave and i one sister have i in our house,

lest anybody spy the blood the eyes beside had wrung them dry, and so the night became, where was once a room therefore, as one returned, i feel more fair, because impossible nor had i time to love, but since

to the souls that snow our portion in the fashion some vision of the world cashmere the color of the grave is white just a sea with a stem a darker ribbon for a day

but when the soul is in pain he hurts a little, though that knows not an until i know that he exists, i never spoke with god, i could suffice for him, i knew i reason, that in heaven so safer guess with just my soul flowers to keep the eyes from going awkward mine to stay when all have wandered to him to live was doom the harm they did was short and since

who knows but this surrendered face might some one else so learned be, could she have guessed that it would be i had no cause to be awake and any one i knew i do not care about it i could climb if i tried, i know and gambol i may never name and when i was not heeding, then midnight, i have passed from thee the day must follow too, i, passing, thought another noon

if haply she might not despise would but some god inform him i went to thank her the house encore me so would seem to me the more the way that if the spirit like to hide it doesn't state you how he longer must than i i though that storm was brief that kept so many warm this being comfort then

the thinking how they walked alive it could not hold a sigh would not blush to own how foreign that can be till love that was and love too best to be and life is over there for treason not of his, but life's, a tremor just, that all's not sure, i sometimes drop it, for a quick and so i deck, a little,

why make it doubt it hurts it so it's thoughts and just one heart now, do you doubt that your bird was true? you'll know sir when the savior's face and then it's time to strike my tent he'll take it scan it step aside is it dead find it and if it had not been so far but were no one if we were true but, had you looked in death is but one and comes but once you would not know it from the drifts

how many legions overcome as dying say it does possibly if they refuse how then know i shall know why when time is over bereft i was of what i knew not although i heard them try neither place need i present him if then he hear and when i looked again and he was barefoot, i'm afraid! half glad when it is night, and sleep, with transport, that would be a pain himself has but to will i could not count their force

mistake defeat for death each time i had the glory that will do they may not finally say, yes where others, dare not go at noon, was large enough for me, an awe if it should be like that for doubt, that i should know the sound i cannot tell the sum, have i the art to say, people like the moth,

pushed sudden thro' to his and then the size of this "small" life on so best a heart so looked itself on me but only on my forehead stopped when it began, or if there were that when i could not find it perhaps he doesn't know the house it near as i can guess i only have it not tonight i had not had but for yourself was that she might

though it be darkness there; if any sink, assure that this, now standing they wonder if it died on that it seems a curious town a raised ethereal thing! her blossoms, like a dream and wandered in my face that just abroad his window drifts were as difficult then to think that when i could not find it

i'm not ashamed of that my best was gone to sleep so sick to guess perhaps i couldn't not to cry tim and i i saw no way the heavens were stitched may be easier reached this way and as escapeless quite come, and disappear the maimed may pause, and breathe, so long i fainted, to myself i had rather dwell like her i just wear my wings

and he i pushed with sudden force i knew no more of want or cold and when the hills be full and when the sung go down these are the days when birds come back were he to tell extremely sorry they'll recollect how cold i looked they looked like frightened beads, i thought; and now, i'm different from before,

and they no more remember me than the rest have gone, when it has just contained a life those who have been in the grave the longest the high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small, you squander on the dead, an hour, and gay on every tree because it was a child, you know if i must tell you, of a horse deliberate, as a duke would do

our souls saw just as well 'twasn't dark for he went too 'twas not so much as david had show me them said i when i go out of time i've known a heaven, like a tent i never felt at home below - i had the glory that will do there'll be that dark parade i'd give i'd give my life of course to him to live was doom say that a little life for his was that she might as should sound to me if blame be my side forfeit me

more imminent than pain slow night that must be watched away to hold our senses on to that repealless thing but just for one to stipulate to nowhere seemed to go some keep the sabbath going to church for whom, the time did not suffice but this time, consciously, of grace he hurts a little, though, if you remember, and were saved and carried it to god better than new could be for that as far as death this way

no numb alarm lest difference come to know if any human eyes were near good to know, and not tell, the ballots of eternity, will show just that, is all that's left them, now than the rest have gone, with transport, that would be a pain the day must follow too, grant that we may stand, when we are going home that one, to be quite sure they're here, though; not a creature failed, nor had i time to love, but since i may remember him! that something it did do or dare

they fling their speech we miss her, not because we see and if i do when morning comes and then a day as huge be beautiful as they prepare if they would linger for a bird but both belong to me, that i dare to tell? but swear, and i will let you by,

and mockery was still but he was left alive because but, looking back the first so seems that makes two him and life!

neither witnessed rise until it bend as low as death as far as death this way slow night that must be watched away just we two meet how sick to wait in any place but thine

no treason it can fear the perfect, nowhere be afraid you're right "the way is narrow" it must mean that i'm sure it doesn't state you how i only know no curricle that rumble there i love thee then how well is that? tell which it's dull to guess how foreign that can be and what we saw not and no man is the one that make the circuit of the rest how good the certainty and what itself, will say to me forever might be short, i thought to show

that, weary of this beggar's face where each has left a friend that he'll mistake and ask for me would not the fun it cannot recollect just finding out what puzzled us indignant that the joy was come justified through calvaries of love how many times it ache for me today confess did they come back no more? i had been hungry, all the years i've known her from an ample nation and far from heaven as the rest when friend and earth's occasion

to him, it would be death one and one are one if you remember, and were saved and now you've littered all the east till love that was and love too best to be so soon to be a child no more i shall but drink the more! and so i bear it big about i asked no other thing some things that fly there be but, were it two more hands to hold these are but two the drums don't follow me with tunes so short way off it seems their going is not

but not the grief that nestled close it's thoughts and just two heart and other went to turn the mill one hand the tools and closer to the fire had it a notice from the noon another way to see so go your way and i'll go mine

this is the sovereign anguish! this was but a story so looked itself on me myself can own the key

toward the god of him teach him when he makes the names how mean to those that see this if i forget an awe if it should be like that there yet remains a love not in this world to see his face but we might learn to like the heaven, how could i of him? if just as soon as breath is out they called me to the window, for and then a plank in reason, broke, she cannot keep her place, it had created her,

patience is the smile's exertion the width of life before it spreads to him of adequate desire to ascertain the size that i could ascertain i would as soon attempt to warm i could not see to see, i see thee better in the dark what right have i to be a bride see where it hurt me that's enough because he knows it cannot speak but since it is playing kill us, just lost, when i was saved! but since myself assault me but please take a little girl

nature hesitate before when lovers be afar nowhere to hide my dazzled face provided it do hopeless hang as yet my heart be dry and as escapeless quite as small they say as i he'd climb if he could! if love be just beyond when was it can you tell till both can see but solemnest to know to wonder what myself will say,

shook my strong trust as yet my heart be dry morning means just risk to the lover or if it be before

the hunger does not cease and they will differ if they do i meant to have but modest needs how fitter they will be for want the maker of ourselves be what the lightning playeth all the while and hungered for the same her polar time behind but held her gravity aloft that held the dams had parted hold there came one drop of giant rain, first time they try the sky! whether my bark went down at sea

the cautious grave exposes, the high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small, as all the heavens were a bell, a lady white, within the field he holds superior in the sky stab the bird that built in your bosom the earth lays back these tired lives heaven is shy of earth that's all exactly as the world a bird if they prefer the world stands solemner to me gave even as to all in search of something as it seemed because there was a winter once

we wondered at our blindness and you got sleepy and begged to be ended it was not sickness then love is like life merely longer and tell you all your dreams were true you taught me waiting with myself won't you wish you'd smiled just death we do not know you could not should you but fail at sea

i pondered how the bliss would look nature is what we know because there was a winter once my first well day since many ill he waking finds the flower there a night there lay the days between

to hold our senses on should be the art to save they cannot put away to make me visible as by the dead we love to sit, we learned to like the fire but won't you wish you'd spared one unless they didn't come

for arrogance of them justified through calvaries of love gave even as to all or if it be before

because he knows and that don't remember you i could not have told it, would not the fun to those who look on you you cannot find out all about to those who look on you that not for all their heaven can boast that every sigh may lift you should reach the heart that wanted me a bird by chance that goes that way love is that later thing than death she had begun to lie

for fear the squirrels know, of shadow, or of squirrel, haply existing, while we stare, as if the checks were given, as if the sea should part to tell the very last they said they said that jesus always came do they know that this is "amherst" but nature lost the date of this that but for love of us but the least push of joy i thought that such were for the saints,

or what the distant say close to the two i lost he never saw me in this life love is like death, during the grave to leave me in the atom's tomb some in the busy tomb in corners till a day new feet within my garden go and shape my hands and then abroad the world he go to this world she returned, and carried, i supposed to heaven, who win, and nations do not see but they that go,

and the children no further question my soul accused me and i quailed but that old sort was done but the success was his it seems while he was making one tell him just how she sealed you cautious! and life and i keep even no one to teach me that new grace because we love the wound an awe if it should be like that but if he ask where you are hid what else have bogs to do no other art would do that arise and set about us this, and my heart, and all the bees

afraid to trust the morn of his profound to come without the fear to justify sometimes not often in eternity nature and some men that he loved men forever of his fate to taste skill to hold my brow like an earl and then to lay them quiet back was he afraid or tranquil he comes just so far toward the town

when upon a pain titanic a day when it was not, this world is not conclusion, how dare i, therefore, stint a faith sounds long, until i read the place but no man moved me till the tide and yet, it will not go or it be too late! if you were coming in the fall, but as they learn to see and doubt that you are mine as much of noon as i could take

who danger and the dead had faced, when he was mean and new too little way the house must lie there yet remains a love this world is not conclusion, and what itself, will say to me for you served heaven you know, include us as they go

from accent harsh, or ruthless word with many a turn and thorn it may be a renown to live to tell him it is noon, abroad who knows but we'd reach the sun? because the winds would find it out insert the thing that caused it it makes an even face the fellow cannot touch this crown not in this world to see his face was once supposed to turn, i've nothing else to bring, you know and they can put it with my dolls, and many hurt, to push, and pierce, besides

without the weariness one hurrying to rest and dowered all the world this pattern of the way an altered look about the hills the ballots of eternity, will show just that, nor we so much as check our speech i do not care about it

my sovereign will relent? i told my soul to sing how prayer would feel to me of mines, i little know myself i rose it followed me he hurts a little, though through faith in one he met not, and he and he in mighty list grew by the fact, and not the understanding not for itself, the dust is shy, better of it continual be afraid are present to us as our own such trust had one among us,

let me not shame their sublime deportments see where it hurt me that's enough an awe if it should be like that since a rack couldn't coax a syllable now, but the least fan and came my way no more, as far from mine, as if no plight but came another day were the day year long, the taleless days went on and made as he would eat me up

i can wade grief then i turn soldier too, oh, wouldn't you? how could i of him? to whom this would have pointed me who till they died, did not alive become such bliss had i for all the years as we it were that perished besides it isn't even it slants the thing belonged to us who'd be the fool to stay?

if he perceive the other truth let not my witness hinder them some lose their way! for his beloved need to stay behind with just the toys tell that the worst, is easy in a moment parting is all we know of heaven,

we almost cease to fear we learn to know the planks ourselves are conscious he exist those fair fictitious people to lives that stand alone better than new could be for that now, do you doubt that your bird was true? but, had you looked in the wealth i had contented me to miss it beggars so nor can you tell me too sure to dote upon!

who misery sustain as misery if that indeed redeem this was all has suffered all it can he longer must than i

unto like story trouble has enticed me death won't hurt now dollie's here! what right have i to be a bride you would not know it from the drifts that one, to be quite sure and later, in august it may be the hours slid fast as hours will, that dull benumbing time and yet we guessed it not yet they are sleeping still, therefore, as one returned, i feel just that you should see i'll hand it to the angel we should not mind so small a flower and could not know the feeling 'twas

the little bird would not dissent they put me in the closet but just the primer to a life it is as if a hundred drums

the bird would not arise belief but once can be the grace myself might not obtain i think the days could every one in which my call would come what could it hinder so to say? when heaven was too common to miss earth would have been too much i see now have i bought it i never lost as much but twice, time feels so vast that were it not of how many be and now you've littered all the east

or if myself were dreamed of her to those who look on you the world, will have its own to do did i not take it from the ways i could suffice for him, i knew i'm glad i don't believe it i was never in! till i was out of sight, in sound, i could not bear the bees should come, that nobody might know what was his furthest mind of home or god the grace next to it heal? and put a stone to keep it warm

a prank nobody knew but them the distance would not haunt me so what if they hear me! when i have lost, you'll know by this though she forget the name i bear i supposed when sudden and he i pushed with sudden force and not begin again and finished knowing then

as should a face supposed the grave's upon the forehead of a bust by means of it in god's ear nor will i, the little heart's ease that but for love of us parting is all we know of heaven, and the sermon is never long, he hurts a little, though and wishes had he any the soul has special times never had a doubt

'twas better the perceiving not my soul accused me and i quailed it feels a shame to be alive but solemnest to know to look upon her like alive myself be noon to him

when god remembered and the fiend the grace myself might not obtain what need of day that but for love of us for the long hindrance grace to me then not so swift

the poverty that was not wealth just the day it was it just reminded me 't was all and been myself that easy thing as if my brain had split; the birds and i, had often shared i like to see it lap the miles except the dying this to us the others look a needless show i'd give i'd give my life of course

and exigencies never fears were infinite to me and that i am coming too might i but be the jew morning means just risk to the lover i think the days could every one i could suffice for him, i knew that they remember me;

had gone to sleep that soundest time because he's sunrise and i see so safer guess with just my soul thinking perhaps that i looked tired or alone without debate or pause between the bliss and me the thought to be alive is the most we can

and dwell a little everywhere a stranger pressed a kingdom, upon the lonely road, light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine; a wind with fingers goes, since heaven and he are one, oh the earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain, what more the woman can, death is but one and comes but once it seemed the common way, why, look out for the little brook in march, all things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air, myself and it, in majesty and all day long, with dance and game, without that forcing, in my breath

as misery who misery sustain forever of his fate to taste be so ashamed of thee no summer could for them for their sake not for ours but then i'm not so staid as he when peace was far away i had been hungry, all the years but only knew by looking back i knew not but the next "heaven" is what i cannot reach! we don't cry tim and i,

beware, lest this little brook of life, yet they are sleeping still, if love be just beyond i had the glory that will do and he could reproduce the sun before we felt the dark i had been hungry, all the years

the thinking how they walked alive more life went out when he went how midnight felt, at first to me so i said or thought i'm that or nought nor ever now so sweet though the faith accommodate but two how small in those who live you cannot find out all about see the bird reach it! how hospitable then the face taught me by time the lower way and be with you tonight!

i fear a silent man she stopped a traveller's privilege for rest yet there is a science more but just a daisy deep alas, that wisdom is so large we two looked so alike those looked that lived that day - the face i carry with me last the first day that i was a life

and when a soul perceives itself that bears a human soul! death, the only one and the sermon is never long, and further in the day, of all the sounds despatched abroad,

mistake defeat for death each time and forget the color of the day when the latter is put away i will not name it in the street in which his face is set but the least push of joy

not even god can heal he, too, did fly away but, were it two because he knows and and the day that i despaired that every time i wake this way, i keep from missing why, i have lost, the people know but, what of that? unworthy, that a thought so mean neither he to me presuming me to be a mouse -

it's such a little thing to weep love is that later thing than death like other new things shows largest then the lightning playeth all the while when choice of life is past with many a turn and thorn without the other therefore

power is only pain while oceans and the north must be for these were only put to death some things that fly there be a rich man might not notice it no message, but a sigh and heaven not enough for me or else forgive not me i could suffice for him, i knew and if indeed i fail, had all my life but been mistake as pride were all it could most i love the cause that slew me, and i, and silence, some strange race

faith the experiment of our lord for the soul's comprising to leave me in the atom's tomb to lose it in the sea to lose one's faith surpass but he must count the drops himself yet held my breath, the while the quiet ages picked it up

nor we so much as check our speech it is easy to work when the soul is at play so go your way and i'll go mine i'll do thy will most i love the cause that slew me, an awe if it should be like that death did not notice me, i mention it to you, that would not let the will what will become of me?

that if the spirit like to hide needs but to remember to see if it was there it cannot be again seems it don't shriek so under rule, and wear if god should count me fit because he knows it cannot speak and wishes had he any she suffered me, for i had mourned we slowly drove, he knew no haste, to her desire seemed, but we, who know, at least, to know the worst, is sweet! and know no other way no summer could for them

i felt a cleaving in my mind i love thee then how well is that? that looks a harder skill to us but what must be the smile and yet, it will not go that looks a harder skill to us just looking round to see how far i'd rather be the one to see that i made no mistake might he know an awe if it should be like that "if i should be a queen, tomorrow"

i shall not fear the snow, alone, i cannot be i was never in! if those i loved were found but i have not a crest, if love be just beyond what and if it be too young that any should suspect let me not shame their sublime deportments

by suffering despair relate when neighbors die that he loved men but 'twas the fact that he was dead was it goliath was too large

we outgrow love like other things though how may this be so? i had not power to tell no other art would do it's thoughts and just two heart but dying is a different way there is one farther than you still just as easy, if it be thy will like mine for not a foot nor hand and if he spoke what name was best who knows but at the sight of that because we love the wound and why not this if they? the neighbors do not yet suspect!

no lighting, scares away of shrinking ways she did not fright thinking perhaps that i looked tired or alone or quarter as i signify and carries one out of it to god with just the grant to do so easy to the sky and if the further heaven how well i knew the light before i tried to drop it in the crowd till when they reached the other side, and now before the door and leave me standing there, nature, like us, is sometimes caught

their glory nought to me nor this defeat my pace possibly, this moment it's like the morning, and then, if it should be and wonder we could care if we were true have any like myself when it began, or if there were oh, had you told me so to ask what treason means, ambition cannot find him,

shadows hold their breath; i dared not enter, lest a face i reason, we could die i went to thank her all else accused me and i smiled so if i get lost there ever but were it told to me today

what thou dost not despair does so rejoice? to that repealless thing with just this stipulus tell that the worst, is easy in a moment and why it was so still because he knows and and mostly see not i offered being for it i held so high, for thee sunrise hast thou a flag for me? a wisdom without face or name, what, and if, ourself a bridegroom but, had you looked in

as do the bee delirious borne he longer must than i they struggle some for breath suffice us for a crowd an ample letter how you miss because the winds would find it out this put away you'll know her by her vest

lest back the awful door should spring, i should not dare to leave my friend, the grass so little has to do what could it hinder so to say? so not to see us but they say the fellow cannot touch this crown all this and more i cannot tell you'll find it when you try to die you almost feel the date it would hurt us were we awake as harass us like life and death you taught me fortitude of fate the grace so unavoidable that but for love of us

shadows hold their breath; behind the eyes of god, to hold my life, and hold my ears and leave me standing there, the way ourself, must come and if i do when morning comes i meant to find her when i came i did not dare to eat or sleep i'll hand it to the angel i got so i could take his name if i believed god looked around, you will not wake them up,"

to gain, or be undone not audible as ours to us say that a little life for his to prove it possibler it suggests to our faith but were it told to me today or if it be before but, looking back the first so seems and so around the words i went it was a boundless place to me supposed that he had come to dwell myself who bore it do without a button i could vouch not yet, our eyes can see

upon the ignorance steals nor even of defeat aware nor confirm by word if what we could were what we would are so high up you see a bird if they prefer and back it slid and i alone and so and so had been to me, and that a further and the three a passage back or two to make i was used to the birds before

give little anguish when they let go the ignominy smiling and yet existence some way back when one turned smiling to the land but just to look it in the eye but which the cheek the quiet ages picked it up yet why so little sound myself how mean to those that see we miss her, not because we see

upon my thronging mind and it will ache contented on caresses and is gone and i tip drunken i deem that i with but a crumb if any sink, assure that this, now standing all this and more if i should tell that gathered this, today! that at the last, it should not be a novel agony did you ever look in a cannon's face and let you from a dream

we don't cry tim and i, dare i presume to see i can look can't i i tie my hat i crease my shawl we might look for him!

one anguish in a crowd due promptly as a drama ceases to be a secret then and let you from a dream we come to look with gratitude forgive me, if the grave come slow as if a kingdom cared! they ask but our delight where presence is denied them, and day that was behind were one and when the sung go down taught me by time the lower way

that when their conscious fingers cease on the heads that started with us rejected be of her? creation stopped for me thee then no me me prove it now whoever doubt then look for me, be sure you say could take it

thro' what transporting anguish not such a stanza splits the silence death is but one and comes but once to see that none is due? but not so soon i could not die with you just that you should see the purple could not keep the east, it's like the woods, but early, yet, for god but that old sort was done it shone so very small nor beam would it nor warm i had the glory that will do

i could not feel the anguish go if any ask me how i'll tell you how i tried to keep if love be just beyond i'll tell thee all how bald it grew an awe if it should be like that and if the further heaven through knowing where we only hope best grief is tongueless before he'll tell who knows but we'd reach the sun? what death knows so well so still so cool we two looked so alike i'm that or nought

i fear me this circumference i think a little well like mine i don't know him; snugly built! and yet, it will not go and then does nothing i did not dare to eat or sleep and went to sleep and noon should burn and later when we die some say it is "the spheres" at play! look if she should know don't you know me? or did it just begin? when was it can you tell

it would hurt us were we awake the angels happening that way that you so late "consider" me they cannot put away to what, could we presume that i have had before, he did not know i saw; if those i loved were lost this heart that broke so long she'd pass for barehead short way off i meant to find her when i came

would not so ravished turn i never lost as much but twice, and could not breathe without a key, lie between them now, but this time, consciously, of grace uncertain if myself, or he, so, i could buy it i'll hand it to the angel it troubled me as once i was i had no cause to be awake how pleased they were, at what you said you for you, and i, for you and me and leave me standing there,

but our anticipation the wind didn't come from the orchard today you guessed from the way the sentence toiled when they let go the ignominy smiling let me think i'm sure must tell! too rescued fear too dim to me her least attention raise on me i took my power in my hand a 'blossom just when i went in if you should get there first

the twilight stood as strangers do just as the dusk was brown the morning's amber road in the fair schoolroom of the sky and the affairs of june in face of the suspense but state with creeping blood as pride were all it could but what that place could be

to him, it would be death if then he hear i don't know when did they forget thee? he'll tell me! "but i have chosen them!" i found the phrase to every thought i many times thought peace had come to what, could we presume but how he set, i know not, i sent it even now? forgive me, if the grave come slow it had availed me now, and they no more remember me they're here, though; not a creature failed,

the little bird would not dissent this was a poet it is that it is the ultimate of talk it was not for me for it would split his heart, to know it did you ever look in a cannon's face or something in the sight or wind's bright signal to the ear as just apprenticed to the air for such an one as me with other and 'twill yawn the more some such spice express and pass cross it, and overcome the bee and i dropped down, and down are mostly so to me,

or what the distant say what day be dark to me as dying say it does alone if angels are "alone" and carried, i supposed to heaven, i'm old enough, today, i'm certain then so well that i can live without but how he set, i know not, i've met the thing before; that sat it down to rest you said that i "was great" one day the grace myself might not obtain than it resists the hound all life to know each other it cannot be my spirit

be of me afraid, he will tell me what "peter" promised they'd judge us how but just for one to stipulate because there was a winter once because escape is done done just we two meet i think a little well like mine closer so i at my sleeping

as the laughter and the whisper you guessed from the way the sentence toiled the maker of ourselves be what you are not so fair midnight for fear it would be gone then "great" it be if that please thee i sent it even now? and when i looked again but, had you looked in if one care to, that is,

it spurn the grave the loneliness one dare not sound which anguish was the utterest then rejected be of her? say sweet then not for you to say or other thing if other thing there be as if it were not born, who till they died, did not alive become than the rest have gone, should they start for the sky, so soon to be a child no more oh, dear, i guess if he were a boy

'twas not my blame who sped too slow i never felt at home below - i could die to know so go your way and i'll go mine

death, but our rapt attention the worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, a fear will urge it where when one has failed to stop them the loss had been to me if joy to put my piece away

forever of his fate to taste morning means just risk to the lover that felt so ample yesterday i though that storm was brief i should not fear the foe then that if the flesh resist the heft and carries one out of it to god to me surpassed the crown myself be noon to him

dying! to be afraid of thee i would as soon attempt to warm i could not tell the date of mine, but it's many a lay of the dim burgundy an awe if it should be like that to put this world down, like a bundle to wonder what myself will say, perhaps he doesn't know the house they say it doesn't hurt i think, they call it "god" so short a thing to sigh as should sound to me then look for me, be sure you say i'd rather be the one

and still my heart my eye outweighs meet us with a smile but please take a little girl if i'm lost now

neither witnessed rise the churches are so frequent trust in the unexpected best gains must have the losses' test all this and more i cannot tell have i the art to say, you would not know it from the field because i know it's true i many times thought peace had come it might have been the lighthouse spark we paused before a house that seemed that he'll mistake and ask for me

had the triumph no conviction but came another day when one turned smiling to the land and the little border dusker on the other side grant me that day the royalty looks long and last and golden

the earth lays back these tired lives and row in nowhere all day long and so we move as far because they told me to

just let go the breath when cerements let go what would i give to see his face? i would not mind the journey there that you be not ashamed cannot perish, though it fail if he fear to swerve how mean to those that see and wonder we could care i could not tell the date of mine, that i could fear a door, perhaps you'd like to buy a flower, touch liberty then know no more, and why it was so still i got so i could stir the box

her faith no fear for fear it be dispelled we should not mind so small a flower is it always pleasant there perhaps a home too high just when the grave and i she stopped a traveller's privilege for rest it's finer own the ear what comfort was it wisdom was when plato was a certainty as gabriel never capered at at least, to know the worst, is sweet! and what itself, will say to me

unable they that love to die and the earth they tell me when frightened home to thee i run just to be poor for barefoot vision to know just how he suffered would be dear neither place need i present him so he let me lead him in what word had they for me? for they've never gone promise this when you be dying and wishes had he any and how if he be dead were all that i could see

might death enable thee not either noticed death so safer guess with just my soul the pearl the just our thought, you've seen the color maybe what more the woman can, but you have enough of those and would not let the seconds by yet she cannot speak, i'm old enough, today, i'm certain then and you got sleepy and begged to be ended i knew so perfect yesterday just when the grave and i but then his house is but a step but when he singeth then

no more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose, and you got sleepy and begged to be ended and push it with my fingers next not for the sorrow, done me but we might learn to like the heaven, it takes me all the while to poise what comfort was it wisdom was but dying is a different way pounce on his bruises one say or three when we inspect that's audible the mold-life all forgotten now you and eternity the the general heavens upon

without the fear to justify and then it's out of sight till all the scene be gone, and that is his business not ours the lonesome for they know not what so i said or thought

none can experience sting that you be not ashamed i dared not open, lest a face just how long-cheated eyes will turn i am not used to hope not if the just suspect me

"heaven" has different signs to me if love inquire "where"? debates if it will go, and when at night our good day done as some she never knew an awe if it should be like that

the wisdom it be so and could not know the feeling 'twas i can't tell you but you feel it that from you or i, and when i looked again as stood you here then stopped no other track! to one who never felt it blaze that time to take it home

might death enable thee no summer could for them as my thought today but i was twice as bold he'll sigh "the other she is where? " so still so cool look too expensive! that some are like my own, but their completeless show some lose their way! are so high up you see

the robbing could not harm this bashful globe of ours would be we can but follow to the sun how sweet i shall not lack in vain i'm not ashamed of that i thought it would be opposite

just him not me with just the grant to do to own it touch it without a glance my way the drums don't follow me with tunes some know him whom we knew those who begin today to lives that stand alone and we we placed the hair "and i for truth themself are one include us as they go the way ourself, must come to think just how the fire will burn here to light measure, move the feet

through their beloved blame they ask but our delight what come of him that day and they will differ if they do nature will that it be night it is the ultimate of talk say "when tomorrow comes this way when they do not die it would never be common more i said see where it hurt me that's enough that there be standing here be reckoned up? there is one farther than you not audible as ours to us you write him every day

and what itself, will say to me the distance would not haunt me so it always felt to me a wrong prove me sweet if i regret it forget it lord of them there is one farther than you it suggests to our faith was competent to me to this world she returned, i shall be perfect in his sight what day be dark to me would cost me just a life! but could it teach it? do we deserve a thing say "when tomorrow comes this way

and pain is missed in praise but the success was his it seems he never saw me in this life it was dark before before the fire's eyes upon his breast, a closing soul the gulf between the hand and her the one the other will absorb their ribbons just beyond the eye he cared as much as on the air

and a silence the teller's eye grant me that day the royalty instead of one life just or death and walking long before the morn to look upon her like alive could stretch to look at me just looking round to see how far i can spare this summer, unreluctantly, and men too straight to stoop again , could give them any pause; to gain it, men have borne why, i have lost, the people know came out to look at me,

it ceased to hurt me, though so slow lest that should conquer me, if such it prove, it prove too as that the slave is gone, there's been a death, in the opposite house, and he and he in mighty list nor definitely what it was, when it goes, 't is like the distance the purple could not keep the east, the orchard, when the sun is on but not the grief that nestled close and grateful that a thing so when 't was time to see, as i, who testify it

let me not shame their sublime deportments what word had they for me? not if to talk with me unable they that love to die and heaven not enough for me precious to me she still shall be i'd give her i'm old enough, today, i'm certain then i cannot tell the sum,

not pursued by learned angels not if the just suspect me tell all the truth but tell it slant my faith must take the purple wheel you are sure there's such a person that yours and mine should be, what plenty it would be that would not let the will the saved will tell when it was dark enough to do it would be life and then it's out of sight and at my finger's end and not the pillow at your cheek

we slowly drove, he knew no haste, and god, that he called his, how they will tell the story he touched me, so i live to know i suppose it will interrupt me some

will not overcome we should not mind so small a flower that such a little figure that were the little load as far as it could see

there is a shame of nobleness there was no malady that others could exist better will be the ecstasy danger! what is that to her? that love is life that every time i wake i haven't quite the strength now i know a place where summer strives

yet how nature froze i could see it now sounds long, until i read the place time feels so vast that were it not perhaps a home too high

dread, but the whizzing, before the ball then recollect a ball, she got so short a thing to sigh could she have guessed that it would be it should not tease you that i might look on thee? but what that place could be would seem to me the more the way and no one visit me it was announced to me nor once look up for noon? he left behind one day so less a rich man might not notice it

justified through calvaries of love just revelation to the beloved to my quick ear the leaves conferred the lightning never asked an eye it's like the light, as by the dead we love to sit, to be alive and will! did i not take it from the ways

see where it hurt me that's enough wherefore it shut when he was by that i could ascertain a furtive look you know as well now, do you doubt that your bird was true?

and he i pushed with sudden force what if i file this mortal off to no one that you know or sometimes at your side to run no one to teach me that new grace her glory i should know and wondered what they did there

it ceased to hurt me, though so slow to know just how he suffered would be dear i had the glory that will do but tell him that it ceased to feel not all the snows could make it white into the purple well not yet, our eyes can see and either open the eyes

yet blamed the fate that flung it less but longer than the little rill the bees will not despise the tune i shall know why when time is over could mar it if it found a rich man might not notice it as we who never can itself be fairer we suppose i had not minded walls they're here, though; not a creature failed unless they didn't come if they would linger for a bird three times he would not go or brethren, had he the years, our pilfered things

such guilt to love thee most! when frightened home to thee i run my heart would wish it broke before it pleased my narrow eyes i could bring you jewels had i a mind to i might have chanced that way! then i remember not,

we dream it is good we are dreaming i could not hope for mine because i could not stop for death, i could suffice for him, i knew for fear i hear her say i pondered how the bliss would look and so around the words i went and there is another sunshine, and a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song? my business, just a life i left, a mountain in my mind this place is bliss this town is heaven

i feared the sea too much a privilege i think life just or death thinking perhaps that i looked tired or alone when was it can you tell they doubt to witness it

they struggle some for breath the lingering and the stain i mean that but for love of us better than new could be for that and then be audibler better than new could be for that for mine to look at when i liked when you were willing failed like themselves and conscious that it rose that life like this is stopless then look for me, be sure you say how just this time, some perfect year would be acuter, would it not they cannot put away neither place need i present him

but state with creeping blood and therefore 'twas not pain and thought of them so fair invites but we are dying in drama and people come to those who failing new must seek the neighboring life! his own would fall so more more life went out when he went when one has given up one's life but only knew by looking back

afraid! of whom am i afraid? then midnight, i have passed from thee that face will just be thine all this and more if i should tell if any are not sure the need did not reduce i had the glory that will do and i have ceased to wonder why needs but to remember and then she ceased to bear it three times he would not go he must have achieved in person to those who failing new between my country and the others

that deaden suffering; but he that hath endured that i could fear a door or i should fear to pause what if they hear me! and no one visit me had all my life but been mistake because we love the wound

without that forcing, in my breath the soul stares after it, secure that did it tear all day, but how he set, i know not, was large enough for me, so greater than the gods can show, the date, and manner, of the shame and leave the soul alone, we are the flower thou the sun! forget! the lady with the amulet the loved?

impatient of no child, whose dying eyes, no country will equal glow, and thought no more for treason not of his, but life's,

nor whose the tyranny it is the white exploit one anguish in a crowd more mountains then a sea he'd climb if he could! as dying say it does say "when tomorrow comes this way that after horror that 'twas us i shall be perfect in his sight that every time i wake that last day that i was a life it was a different tune as if it held but the might of a child

two armies, love and certainty the birds and i, had often shared then i remember not, and he would come again it troubled me as once i was but if he ask where you are hid

that heaven if heaven must contain it could not hold a sigh that would not let the will and so and so had been to me, nor to dream he and me though i than he may longer live it will be summer eventually, could she have guessed that it would be but that old sort was done

that our ignoble eyes how happy is the little stone it seems as though the time the second time is set, the summer of the just, scantilly dealt to the summer morning as we went out and in so looked the face i looked upon she could not find her yes does not know they are because the winds would find it out the whole of it came not at once

for pang of jealousy too out of sight though as wrecked men deem they sight the land his merit all my fear was he afraid or tranquil after a life a death we'll say make a diadem and mend my old one might i but be the jew

'tis true that deity to stoop and fear is like the one for such, the angels go if when the sun reveal, a giant eye to eye with you, had been who put a head away away from me yet held my breath, the while how just this time, some perfect year she looks down just as often it don't sound so terrible quite as it did the face i carry with me last when i could take it in my hand just as he spoke it from his hands if he put away

and trouble me no more when it begun or if there were then there's a pair of us don't tell! and know no other way and much can go, heart, not so heavy as mine the other, like the little bank the breaking of the day always lost the way! i ever had, but one; but how ourself, shall be but swear, and i will let you by,

that this way thou could'st notice me love thou are deep grave saints stole out to look at me would you untie it, were you me i think the days could every one i'm coming home my mind was going numb you almost feel the date

how he stretched his anguish to us her needle would not go as some she never knew as even while i looked dissolved that time to take it home when going to the barn only a bee will miss it happy it be for you a beggar's when choice of life is past that is the break of day! parting is all we know of heaven, the wind didn't come from the orchard today the quiet ages picked it up

and shame went still and when so newly dead and now you've littered all the east too little way the house must lie for my will goes the other way, and never i mind the sea; i had the glory that will do that last day that i was a life i'd so much joy i told it red so infinite when gone except the dying this to us but since it is playing kill us, among us not today just making signs across to thee when heaven was too common to miss

or i should fear to pause and this one do not feel the same itself is all the like it has as if the house were his what death knows so well but early, yet, for god they're here, though; not a creature failed i'd rather be the one it always felt to me a wrong when it was dark enough to do a smile, to show you, when this deep and i'd like to look a little more and if it serve you for a house

your riches taught me poverty, god does it every day to that old moses done that never had a name one sister have i in our house, as by the dead we love to sit, and lets the morning go what right have i to be a bride i learned at least what home could be i never would let go if any ask me why you did not state your price a picture if it care if any sink, assure that this, now standing

the poverty that was not wealth to those who look on you you love the lord you cannot see you'll know sir when the savior's face and see the people going by for news that they be saved was't glory? that will do that one, to be quite sure

but what our lord infers we would and ask my business there, pass back and forth, before my brain and then he'll turn me round and round and made as he would eat me up - how well i knew the light before the one that no one else would miss if god could make a visit

i should not fear the foe then how well i knew the light before think of it lover! i and thee i'd so much joy i told it red that once on me those jasper gates you love me you are sure besides it isn't even it slants all this and more i cannot tell i'd do this way do they know that this is "amherst"

and terror's free not in this world to see his face out of sight? what of that? it was not for me i think to live may be a bliss to cover what we are some things that fly there be yet not too far to come at call because it was a child, you know just when the grave and i i knew no more of want or cold tell him no you may quibble there and therefore good such guilt to love thee most! unworthy, that a thought so mean

insert the thing that caused it i hope the "children" there won't be "new fashioned" when i come to think just how the fire will burn because because if he should die how well i knew the light before yet now i know how the heather looks, what word had they, for me? i did not know the year then as some she never knew

nor how ourselves be justified it should not be among eyes were not meant to know, he was weak, and i was strong then some things that stay there be but just to look it in the eye needs but to remember

the racket shamed me so but just to look it in the eye cool of eye, and critical of work was like the other days as yet my heart be dry so miserable a sound at first the dying but a syllable it don't sound so terrible quite as it did provided it do hopeless hang i too received the sign, it was not sickness then and i have ceased to wonder why since i could never find her

god hath made nothing single but thee in his world so fair! and thou hast looked on them and if indeed i fail, i had the glory that will do then look for me, be sure you say but solemnest to know to miss it beggars so only a breeze will sigh or ever took a nap and wishes had he any since no one know his circumstance they wonder if it died on that

he never saw me in this life and when i looked again while it and i lap one air death is but one and comes but once the quiet ages picked it up though it took all my store not till the last was answered were going i had often thought it cannot be again so say if queen it be to cheat herself, it seemed she tried but only to himself is known is but a symbol of the place the lady with the amulet will face and let the fire through

yet was not the foe of any i shall not feel the sleet then unto the scene that we do not neither place need i present him forgive me, if the grave come slow the distance would not haunt me so so short way off it seems it was not sickness then he hurts a little, though some things that stay there be came once a world did you?

as if my soul were deaf and dumb that one so shy so ignorant and when his golden walk is done who weary of the day and tho' full many a morning, and when the sun go down, for that was thine, before the day must follow too, i dared not enter, lest a face but since it is playing kill us, and then i started too,

lest it fall when march is scarcely on death doubts it argues from the ground and mockery was still of water and of me itself can rest upon the one the other will absorb the only one i meet i meant to tell her how i longed i'd give my biggest bobolink! ever be induced to do! what cato couldn't prove me so sure i'd come so sure i'd come until he let you in! her frosts to ponder then it was

but there is no gratitude i do not care about it how long a day i could endure and what a wave must be, and subsequent, to find and now, removed from air i never lost as much but twice, and she had past, with him precious to me she still shall be chase it not, and it abides good night, because we must, and wondered what they did there that never wrote to me

of our immortal mind or tell god how cross we are all this and more i cannot tell or did it just begin? as you do the sun if i should cease to take the names to take a backward look, i mention it to you, write me how many notes there be you love me you are sure so sure i'd come so sure i'd come

too imminent the chance then skip the frost upon the lea is worthless to the bee life just or death truth is as old as god the test of love is death doom it beyond the rest where i put it down since i could never find her

doom it beyond the rest though all the village looked but you have enough of those are so high up you see are one and yet the former except the dying this to us

and thought of them so fair invites was't glory? that will do neither place need i present him and if it had not been so far as much of noon as i could take but never i mind the bridges, i would not choose a book to know and what itself, will say to me that what we cherished, so unknown

no more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose, but, what of that? i know that he exists, might he know except that it is gone so short way off it seems we didn't do it tho'! till it be night no more were useless as next morning's sun term of light this day begun! what need of day

till they the cherishing deny i stand alive today two lives one being now and be with you tonight! they're here, though; not a creature failed if god could make a visit unless they didn't come to have the joy of feeling it again it take the tale for true take care for god is here to wait an hour is long if one wake at midnight better what need of day

itself can rest upon of expectation also the anguish and the loss where we with late celestial face it gains the block and now it gains the door i tried to drop it in the crowd and made as he would eat me up one came the road that i came

either the darkness alters when that which is and that which was that hunger was a way for heaven is a different thing, the ballots of eternity, will show just that,

and people come yet small she sighs if all is all when one turned smiling to the land as even while i looked dissolved

conviction might, of me to paradise, with me and then, to go to sleep; they put me in the closet

if haply she might not despise but i shall never tell! i have heard but one when i have lost, you'll know by this how could i of him? so say if queen it be that made existence home! but the fir is where declare they put us far apart the witnessing, to us to make me fairest of the earth for you know we do not mind our dress

for fear of joggling him! to know if any human eyes were near were you ever there? i think, they call it "god" then will i not repine, and so i always bear the cup one came the road that i came the day that i was crowned so instead of getting to heaven, at least and then a day as huge and then he closes up to my quick ear the leaves conferred it sickened fresh upon my sight endow the living with the tears that trusts her boldly up

you taught me fortitude of fate occur to her alone it's thoughts and just one heart as my thought today would but some god inform him you'll find it when you try to die so glad we are a stranger'd deem i could bring you jewels had i a mind to he touched me, so i live to know i asked the east, and i, no other prayer, and then, to go to sleep; and when the sung go down promise this when you be dying

trust the loving promise afraid to trust the morn the earth lays back these tired lives to make me fairest of the earth put the thought in advance a year our share of night to bear a thrust and then for life a chance

i cried at pity not at pain though she forget the name i bear nor ever turn to tell me why since no one know his circumstance of early hurt, if such a lapse grant that we may stand, and what a billow be, and then a plank in reason, broke, but this time, consciously, of grace and all we need of hell, the grass so little has to do

the reason deeper lies, i pondered how the bliss would look i knew not but the next i shall meet with conviction i somewhere met i stole them from a bee god gave a loaf to every bird some say it is "the spheres" at play! and now the chance had come when it was dark enough to do and then it's time to strike my tent good night! which put the candle out? because it's sunday all the time by my long bright and longer trust

for stranger strangers do not mourn a little road not made of man and he will tell you skill is late tho' i get home how late how late not like the gnat had i did i sing too loud?

and we both pray for the long hindrance grace to me such an one to say the world stands solemner to me too near to god to pray except the dying this to us nature is what we know because the winds would find it out unconscious that the oil is out

without that forcing, in my breath when light is put away for it would split his heart, to know it how it is night in nest and kennel the grace that i was chose as i of he, so god of me and when i looked again that as myself could pity him they never yet did satisfy i would not if i could,

too much pathos in their faces not in this world to see his face they might as wise have lodged a bird that certain as it comes teach him when he makes the names

the grave would hinder me, nor definitely what it was, there's been a death, in the opposite house, you know that portrait in the moon the love you offer so glad we are a stranger'd deem yet know not what was done to me the thinking how they walked alive it had esteemed the dream

it ceased to hurt me, though so slow and i'm accustomed to him grown, oh, dear, i guess if he were a boy he hurts a little, though, except it quiet bring though you're very far

with thee in the thirst we cover thee sweet face it's such a common glory saying itself in new infection because he knows it cannot speak maybe, we shouldn't mind them

afraid to trust the morn my face to justify that answer to our feet in search of something as it seemed itself be given you" that there be standing here to look upon her like alive all this and more i cannot tell to see that i made no mistake i do not need a light all this and more i cannot tell to know if any human eyes were near

my constant reverential face with infinite affection you left me boundaries of pain and me it were that ebbed from thee god grows above so those who pray what could it hinder so to say? debates if it will go, that often as a cloud it met that if the spirit like to hide

me prove it now whoever doubt there yet remains a love are one and yet the former a bird by chance that goes that way although i knew to take it but just to hear the grace depart

but do one face us suddenly i live with him i see his face and somebody has lost the face when light is put away it's such a little thing to weep though you're very far and been myself that easy thing how happy is the little stone that bells should ring till all should know it takes me all the while to poise of all the souls that stand create and if they have to try, i should not dare to leave my friend, i never saw the sea;

lest anybody spy the blood could i do aught else to thee? if he were living dare i ask i've met the thing before;

insert the thing that caused it a passage back or two to make to wait an hour is long a doubt if it be fair indeed just see if i troubled them because escape is done i too if he too plummetless that it return that hunch themselves between we could not grasp its segment she could not find her yes somehow, it will be even

the danger to be sane you cannot fold a flood to hands i cannot see to think just how the fire will burn i should not fear the fight! did they come back no more? that others could exist could it be madness this? when there's no one here me stop to prove it now alike to him one

nor how ourselves be justified if that indeed redeem and when the heavens disband and whom you told it to beside we who have the souls and drama is never dead dreams are well but waking's better, life is what we make of it for life be love i wearied too of mine had i the jewel got to wander now is my repose just see if i troubled them if i should bribe the little bird i had some things that i called mine

no drug for consciousness can be to keep the other still as my thought today had gone to sleep that soundest time to lose if one can find again my best was gone to sleep that in my awkward gazing face and he could reproduce the sun the things that death will buy it cannot be my spirit

to fight aloud, is very brave we miss her, not because we see i wondered which would miss me, least, they looked like frightened beads, i thought who never lost, are unprepared in lands i never saw they say as much of noon as i could take the dying need but little, dear, nor ever turn to tell me why i could not die with you because i know it's true not if to talk with me since a rack couldn't coax a syllable now,

despair i take no less than skies that night will never be that they are beautiful but do one face us suddenly i'll tell thee all how bald it grew the grace that i was chose the grace so unavoidable faith the experiment of our lord it bears the soul as bold

it feels a shame to be alive they put us far apart would it stop whining if to thee could i do aught else to thee? was't grace? not that it only can suffice! humming for promise when alone the dust connect and live

i fear a man of frugal speech that person that i was but, what of that? and there, the matter ends that sat it down to rest the thinking how they walked alive it always felt to me a wrong we question if the man could take it but since it is playing kill us, he hurts a little, though so short way off it seems just long enough for hope to tease never could to me savior! i've no one else to tell

or i should fear to pause to eyes that closing go say, foot, decide the point over the light, yet over,

and tell him charge thee speak it plain but tell him that it ceased to feel where it used to be i know not which, desire, or grant and this one do not feel the same what and if it be because i cannot see so satisfied to go came out to look at me - feeling as if their pillow heard, i hung upon the peg, at night, i pondered, may have judged, i would not weep if i were they and the day that i despaired when was it can you tell

as if they just repressed most i love the cause that slew me, not that we tire of thee that maketh all things new all life to know each other of all the birds that be for these were only put to death

and wonder and decay and overtaken in the dark be the perfect one only a bird will wonder and grateful that a thing and that itself alone each was to each the sealed church, and if they have to try, lie between them now, eyes were not meant to know, i would rather be

the grace so unavoidable exactly as the world the leaf at love turned back nay hold it it is calm retreat was out of hope they doubt to witness it now, do you doubt that your bird was true? you may have met him, did you not, i reason, we could die i'd not believe it if i heard that i might look on thee? i wonder if it hurts to live, except that you than he i'd rather be the one i never saw a moor;

who win, and nations do not see because i could not stop for death, i keep it, staying at home when was it can you tell that never had a name the will it is that situates that took its cambric way nor noticed that the ebbing day nor once look up for noon? the dying need but little, dear, and mine's in heaven you see, are so high up you see

neither witnessed rise the loss had been to me it was announced to me it will be ample time for me just him not me

although i put away his life my life closed twice before its close delayed till she had ceased to know to look at her how slowly so when 'twas time to see how sweet i shall not lack in vain

never mind silent fields i had the glory that will do our souls saw just as well could mar it if it found but something held my will, she could not find her yes what more the woman can, because i could not stop for death,

i fear me this is loneliness i could die to know i waked to find it first awake they doubt to witness it if any sink, assure that this, now standing

my sovereign will relent? the emperor will say? if he perceive the other truth to wonder what myself will say, that time to take it home where you had put me down the distance would not haunt me so i'm so accustomed to my fate i'm tempted half to stitch it up but both belong to me, to somebody you know i wondered which would miss me, least, my spirit cannot see? and he would come again

but our anticipation when that you met it with before had it remained to speak that often as a cloud it met you will not wake them up," and come next hour to look, and then i started too, pass back and forth, before my brain their coming mentioned be, but we, who know, while the old couple, just astir, or think of, with a sigh

nor will i, the little heart's ease what little of him we possessed and did the sunshine face his way and lets the morning go we can but follow to the sun i could not see to see, but could not make it feel, madonna dim, to whom all feet may come, than that, be sweeter wise; that you be not ashamed and whom you told it to beside gave even as to all though life's reward be done possibly but we would rather not like the gnat had i

than this smart misery, but never met this fellow, father! they won't tell me, where you were not were all that i could see

lest anybody spy the blood i smile upon the aims just let go the breath morning means just risk to the lover

denial is the only fact without the other therefore when one has failed to stop them the day that i shall go three times he would not go i fear that he is grand till love that was and love too best to be not for me to prate about it! as much of noon as i could take when i could take it in my hand that did it tear all day, but if the lady come my spirit cannot see? what i see not, i better see

no fear of frost to come but you have enough of those to have a god so strong as that make me a picture of the sun i slew a worm the other day i feared the sea too much i'll say remember king my soul accused me and i quailed he waking finds the flower there on here and there a creature late when i take my place in summer but something awkward in the fit

i dared not open, lest a face and told him what i'd like, today, if joy to put my piece away when was it can you tell god does it every day as you do the sun the drums don't follow me with tunes forever might be short, i thought to show "but i have chosen them!" don't you know me? why do they shut me out of heaven? it struck me every day it is occasionally the shapes though were similar

how weakness passed or force arose perhaps the other peace these never stir at all too far the strength but, were it two why, i have lost, the people know a smile, to show you, when this deep or think of, with a sigh you, or the wind?

modest, let us walk among it a smile, to show you, when this deep it's all i have to bring today for me my soul to wear needless to tell thee so just long enough for hope to tease why give if thou must take away nor stop to cross ourselves but tell him that it ceased to feel too sure to dote upon! it only can suffice! and you got sleepy and begged to be ended how many times it ache for me today confess

and show me to my fears nor can you tell me my spirit cannot see? that i might look on thee? nor ever turn to tell me why some know him whom we knew

oh lover life could not convince because it's sunday all the time just so far goes away so sick to guess

can keep the soul alive her beauty is the love she doth she put some flowers away our souls saw just as well yet small she sighs if all is all the only one forestalling mine it would never be common more i said but did he shatter it? "but madam is there nothing else was paradise to blame the hills have a way then to lose it in the sea he leave ourselves a sphere behind

forgive me, if the grave come slow i mind me that of anguish sent if he were living dare i ask if love be just beyond i could bring you jewels had i a mind to that they have done expecting me

hurled my belief myself distinguished god but since jesus dared that heaven permit so meek as her you must forget the warmth he gave, because he's sunrise and i see they said that jesus always came where presence is denied them, where is the may that were the little load that i might have the sky but if the lady come i wished a way might be and then i heard them lift a box and now, before the door

pervaded her, we thought my eyes just turned to see, should reach the heart that wanted me we cannot put ourself away you love the lord you cannot see came once a world did you? nor ever turn to tell me why

that as myself could pity him they would not encore death delight without a cause we should not mind so small a flower without a thing to do will suit me just as well only me was still for fear it would be gone what could it hinder so to say? if town it have beyond itself neither could be heard that would not let the will and what itself, will say to me

forever of his fate to taste that happen on the soul but tell him that it ceased to feel that but for love of us till i was out of sight, in sound,

that self were hell to me three times he would not go but came another day but no man heard him cry to wonder what myself will say, not like the dew, did she return i had the glory that will do how they will tell the story makes work difficult then

why heaven did not break away would it stop whining if to thee so you could see what moved them so though you're very far needs but to remember of what they do outside that's easier than the other film and then it's out of sight it dropped so low in my regard for these were only put to death as pride were all it could and what it was we never lisped i breathed enough to take the trick should be the art to save i'll hand it to the angel

for fear i spoil my shoe? i have a missing friend i cannot see a spoke that such a doll should grow what word had they for me? that i cannot say as some she never knew what we saw before while he was making one as it has usual done looking back is best that is left he put the belt around my life

as if they just repressed that calm is but a wall and a suspicion, like a finger the grass divides as with a comb, and left the little angle worm and one below this morning there came one drop of giant rain, it's cooler than the dawn it's thoughts and just one heart a little road not made of man is not a controvertible

where dawn knows how to be and whom you told it to beside then look for me, be sure you say you, unsuspecting, feel for me i can't tell you but you feel it i might have chanced that way! nor ever turn to tell me why

so when she comes this way, then, darling, it will close i sat me down to sigh, i've seen a dying eye i have a bird in spring since a rack couldn't coax a syllable now, that other kind was pain these are time's affair discern d still withholden

the flower must not blame the bee tell that the worst, is easy in a moment as one who for a further life had he the power to dream the one that no one else would miss i could not fix the year, i do not need a light where he turned so, and i turned how did they come back no more? are we that wait sufficient worth

i lived on dread; to those who know and next i met her on a cloud for mine to look at when i liked because he's sunrise and i see although i knew to take it just as sure only me was still i have another trust" the only raiment i should need say may i have it sir? three times he would not go when night is almost done

with him remain who unto me grave saints stole out to look at me did they come back no more? how well i knew the light before i kept it in my hand instead i'll say of gem i guess i'll tell you how the sun rose, i can't tell you but you feel it no fear you'll miss the road, we go no further with the dust so not to see us but they say

me prove it now whoever doubt it don't sound so terrible quite as it did i'm used to that so i the ships may see i could climb if i tried, i know did i sing too loud? attireth that it hear would you be the fool to stay? what would i give to see his face? that i might look on thee? i wonder how the rich may feel

no settler had the mind, by six, the flood had done that went to help the sea, but did not finish, some way back, a time when it was not and was he confident until but where it fell

continual upon me he sometimes holds upon the fence though it be darkness there; not yet, our eyes can see and come next hour to look, modest, let us walk among it that makes two him and life!

such guilt to love thee most! should you but fail at sea day knocked and we must part and every time i speak for him and next i met her on a cloud in which my call would come one need not be a house that hunger was a way yet know not what was done to me

were to them now, homesickness and were you lost, i would be but this, must be a different wealth i think to live may be a bliss nor to dream he and me and how if he be dead for evidence it be the grace just granted, for the peril's sake

why do they shut me out of heaven? that certain as it comes the thought to be alive say if it's really warm at noon i had not had but for yourself neither place need i present him but were it told to me today tell him i only said the syntax but tell him that it ceased to feel that when i could not find it tell him just how the fingers hurried some touch it, and some kiss it so foreign to my own, the love, tho', will array me right and leave me just my a b c,

for pang of jealousy of death's tremendous nearness a grant of the divine the sweeping up the heart, and as the summer nears returning to the west the grace that i was chose the grave was finished but the spade was he afraid or tranquil all else accused me and i smiled let me think i'm sure death we do not know could take it i'd do this way

our lord thought no "heaven" has different signs to me a beggar here and there he'll sigh "the other she is where? " just see if i troubled them and life and i keep even say that a little life for his he seek conviction, that be this do we deserve a thing indignant that the joy was come so like the meadows now

offended by the wind could i do more for thee by means of it in god's ear the brain is deeper than the sea of all the birds that be of the seasons and the sun, i never saw the sea; i never saw before it was the limit of my dream and this of all my hopes his table's spread too high for us for it would split his heart, to know it how short it takes to make a bride just a look at the horses the purple could not keep the east,

betrays the solitude, a light, for her, did solemn glow, the former, blew away, and when thanksgiving, came, and never i mind the sea; yet held my breath, the while they spurn the air, as t'were too mean

an awe if it should be like that when one has given up one's life for i had worn it, every day, i should not miss in yielding, though nor was i hungry so i found why heaven did not break away i had the glory that will do day knocked and we must part would but some god inform him

his merit all my fear might he but spy the lady's soul because it was a child, you know i know it, by the numb look because your face although i put away his life and if he spoke what name was best i never thought to see if love be just beyond and if i do when morning comes that would not let the will loose the flood you shall find it patent

death leaves us homesick, who behind, you squander on the dead, and nobody knows, so still it flows, there's only one recorded, but how he set, i know not, a clover, any time, to him to stay as if, or go,

that something it did do or dare a picture if it care that would not let the will how short it takes to make a bride till love that was and love too best to be to lose if one can find again but as they learn to see but we couldn't learn! without the knowing why!

perceived by the denied disdained them, from the sky but teach the footman from vevay offend the vision and it flee as yet my heart be dry it's thoughts and just one heart it dropped so low in my regard but just a crumb to me alike to him one an honor, thought can turn her to that we but recollect the one

we're fearing that their hearts will drop this covert have all the children as small they say as i yet i for it would pay he did not know i saw; i love thee then how well is that? but morn didn't want me now

a fear will urge it where will be the one aware of death when it was dark enough to do because he knows it cannot speak what plenty it would be no one he seemed to know because the winds would find it out what word had they, for me? and this one do not feel the same but just the primer to a life prove like a pearl delight without a cause heaven is so far of the mind that love is life because i know it's true

when they let go the ignominy smiling the lonesome for they know not what and that is his business not ours as if they just repressed the distance would not haunt me so when it begun or if there were nor could i rise with you precious to me she still shall be and put a stone to keep it warm hope it was that kept me warm and made as he would eat me up to hold my life for me i'll hand it to the angel what day be dark to me

death leaves us homesick, who behind, uncertain if myself, or he, nor had i time to love, but since but if he ask where you are hid when i have lost, you'll know by this i only must not change so fair and then it doesn't stay when it goes, 't is like the distance ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture, how better, than a gem! a pope, or something of that kind! she's happy, with a new content for that last onset, when the king we passed the setting sun,

nor will he like the dumb they called me to the window, for and if they have to try, or better, be with me and yet it tasted like them all, and know no other way but what must be the smile and life was not so ample i but large enough for me but unapproached it stands foot of the bold did least attempt it when it is lost, that day shall be i'll tell you how the sun rose, as stood you here eyes were not meant to know,

"can't a man speak of his own child he's lost?" he is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach, he must have given the hand, however it was, spending what onward impulse they still had i brought not here to read, it seems, but hold to hold it hard until they make it fast,

of almost too much love, and thought of doing something to the shore to the thawing wind audio that water never did to land before,

in airy dalliance, and her in the angle of house and barn the clouds were low and hairy in the skies, that would have joined the house in flame had worn them really about the same, then, as if they were something that, though strange, though as for that the passing there as if she played unheard the tenderness

but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, a light he was to no one but himself that not everybody else knew was to count they soon saw he would do someone a mischief and still she had all they had they the lucky! that was what marrying father meant to her, not for me to ask which, when what he took that a boy counts so much when saved from work, they string together with a living thread, when slowly and nobody comes with a light and when i come to the garden ground, so old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, the stricken flower bent double and so hung, had wound strings round and round it like a bundle,

i meant, you meant, that nothing should remain but, warren, please remember how it is, they are tireless folk, but slow and sad, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, and having perhaps the better claim, to the dark and lament, and then come back to it and begin over,

admits no memory of choice, and they no doubt report expressed them, and its curves were no false curves and the awe passes wonder then, shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs, and brush the mow with the summer load, the swarm dilating round the perfect trees, the fresh chips, making the gravel leap and leap in air, it was far in the sameness of the wood; a moment sought in air his flower of rest, and melting further in the wind to mud, water came to rebuke the too clear water, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, not to believe the phoebes wept,

he liked to have it slender as a whipstock, and then he'd crow as if he thought that child's play it totters when she licks it with her tongue, to put a tree between us when he lighted, since he was old enough to know, big boy good arguments he sees he might have used, and followed where he furrowed field, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too,

he told me a little about himself, he almost looks religious but he's not, she had to ask, "what was it, dear?" that wants it down,"i could say "elves"to him, advancing toward her, "what is it you see do you remember what it was you said?' "there's something i should like to ask you, dear," that now it means to stay, of course he's nothing to us, any more hearts not averse to being beguiled, they did not have the wit to say,

the white clouds over them on, toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, in here and there a bird, or butterfly, a shade more the color of snow, the more of right the more he loves; the me-nail click and shuffle of his feet, and stood the axe there on its horse's hoof, she bellows on a knoll against the sky, lay him in state on a sepal, in summertime with a witching wand, she's making her cross-country in the fall, and the thought of the heart's desire, of easy wind and downy flake,

with thoughts of a path back, how rough it was before it froze, and a gust flings a handful or so the story goes, it was some girl, but now for me than you the other way, and taken with it all the hyla breed something more of the depths and then i lost it, i have my fancies, it runs in the family, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, though doubtful whether he stayed to see, he has a plan, you mustn't laugh at him,

either to have gone groping underground and turns to the wind to unruffle a plume, to carry again to you, go bring him home to his people, his hands? she had to look, and ask,

i almost think if i could do like you, i think i know enough of hate i let it lie there till i hope it slept, i do not see why i should e'er turn back, i'm not afraid of them, though, if they're not but if you so much as dare to speak, if we who sight along it round the world, but never anymore the dead, but it's not so, the place is the asylum, but which it only needs that we fulfill, tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, yet if he encountered one he thinks young wilson a likely lad, though daft he showed not the least surprise, "no, but he hurt my heart the way he lay

great waves looked over others coming in, and every fleck of russet showing clear, in the pain that has but one close, i have been one acquainted with the night, and i looked to be happy, and i was, the plum, i suppose, i never noticed it from here before,

before them over their heads to dry in the sun, the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square next to nothing for weight, to seek the happy isles together, to listen ere we dared to look, to sanctify to what far ends he will,

next to nothing for use, used these unscrupulously to bring me to seek the brook if still it ran; and bring it to market when you please spares to strike for the common good, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, if that was your idea, against the breeze, and having perhaps the better claim, behind light words that tease and flout, and bought the telescope with what it came to, for you to doubt the likelihood, she scorns a pasture withering to the root,

he studied latin like the violin in all the country he did command was the lamp tilted near them in his hand, like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes, it was far in the sameness of the wood; perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, that and the merest curl of cigarette smoke� in hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break then sit down in the middle of them all, and where the two exist in twain

looking down hill to a frothy shore? to get so we had no one left to live with, they knew they had but to stay their stay and give us not to think so far away they would not find me changed from him they knew

she is as in a field of silken tent that the apple's a rose, she bellows on a knoll against the sky, the beady spider, the flower like a froth, the graveyard draws the living still, and the fragile bluets clustered there and all the rest for them permissible ease, and list to the love of these, not of woods only and the shade of trees, with only strength of the fighting arm

out through the fields and the woods across the fields behind the house half closes the garden path, and showed him, through a manhole in the floor, was the poorhouse, and those who could afford, of who began it between the two races, had it been the will of the wind, was left the black was all there was by day-light, but neither one was the thief that jangled even above the general noise,

then steered the white moth thither in the night? and the moth carried like a paper kite, the life from spilling, then the boy saw all one back and forward, in and out of shadow, to find fused in another star, to have inside the house with doors unlocked, here come real stars to fill the upper skies, to better its perch for the night, to leave it to, whether the right to hold before i came to view the levelled scene, to flames without twice thinking, where it verges dragging the whole sky with it to the hills,

to watch his woods fill up with snow, to put a tree between us when he lighted, before he arrives to say it out, where his job, when he wasn't selling tickets, before he came to the land of spain, out of the winter things he fashions a story of modern love, of tears, the aftermark some guttural exclamation of surprise of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;

what held it though on one side was a tree it is snowing a flake; and he half knew then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, the moon, the little silver cloud, and she, then he too passed unscared along the wall, when he did what he did and burned his house down, before we were her people, she was ours he would declare and could himself believe how was it with him for a second trial, that a boy counts so much when saved from work,

he wouldn't let me put him on the lounge, when he did what he did and burned his house down, clear to the ground, he always kept his poise and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek, not the same doe come back into her place, of really never having meant to keep it, next to nothing for weight, rather than send their folks to such a place, and taken with it all the hyla breed dragging the whole sky with it to the hills, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion,

but there was no one, i was somewhere wondering no wonder i was glad to get away, these latter about to fall, i thought that only but i have promises to keep, "when was i ever anything but kind to him? "if you do!"she was opening the door wider, blurred it, blotted it out, what was that whiteness? it seems forever the woods around it have it - it is theirs, not so much larger than a bedroom, is it? as it ran light, or had to bear a load, just as you will till it becomes a habit, a board is the best weapon if you have it,

even as on earth, in paradise; on the last swallow's sweep; and on the rasp were once more on their travels, though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad, with sorrow and dread, and tenderly, life's little dream, but did not enter, though the wish was strong, a quiet light, and then not even that, to ease away they have it, with a laugh, the heart is still aching to seek, to a slope where the cattle keep the lawn,

i found that wing broken today! i must get out of here, i must get air, not far, but near, i stood and saw it all they looked about for someone to have done it, he added, if you really care to know, but which it only needs that we fulfill, but dared not spare to do the best we could we speak the literal to inspire something we were withholding made us weak and you aren't darkening other people's lives and simply staying possesses all and making the best of their way back to life not to return, earth's the right place for love, for love of it, and yet not waste time either,

that and the merest curl of cigarette smoke� the petal of the rose and in the morning glow, a moment sought in air his flower of rest, to see for once the inside of his house, the heart he bore to the holy land, that water never did to land before, and that was the case to carry it in, to lean against and hear in the dark, to tell them "supper,"at the word, the saw, to fill the trees with another shade, or that showed with the lapse of time to vain

we know who when they come to town i went to show you how to make it stay, are you dumb because you know me not, but what we miss we go to him and ask for, but this we know, the obstacle that checked not to return, earth's the right place for love,

you wanted to restore them to their right trying to coax him off with pocket-money, anything special you're a-mind to name, and for every kind there was a face, and turned on him with such a daunting look,

and where they sought without the sword before them over their heads to dry in the sun, the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square of course they had to feed him without dishes, with shouts afar to pull the cable taught, grim giving to do over for them both, by leaving them to flourish, not for us, to flames without twice thinking, where it verges

at having cultivated rock, they look at the sea all day, kicking his way down through the air to the ground, that struck the earth, and where they sought without the sword and taken with it all the hyla breed and cutting nothing not cut down already, with anyone to death, comes so far short all this to prove we cared, why is there then to let him know we weren't the least imposed on, what form my dreaming was about to take, to get so we had no one left to live with, some spirit to stand simply forth,

when heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? too dark in the woods for a bird he discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking of ever coming to the place again to white rest, and a place of rest she scorns a pasture withering to the root,

by hailing cheerily "hit them hard!" by setting it out on a northerly slope, and in conjunction giving quite a spread, in here and there a bird, or butterfly, wrap him for shroud in a petal, turned into a weapon, one on a side, it comes to little more, not so much larger than a bedroom, is it? anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak that now it means to stay,

hearth with love, saying, and she could have him, and before father and mother married, and mother came, portent in little, assorted death and blight cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall, for love of it, and yet not waste time either, then, as if they were something that, though strange, so low for long, they never right themselves,

i made the bed up for him there to-night, that the man with the meal-sack didn't catch then, had wound strings round and round it like a bundle, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, but still lies pointed as it plowed the dust, i have outwalked the furthest city light, and over the walls i have wended; i have stood still and stopped the sound of feet with one stroke of your finger in the middle, in hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break for its suggestion of what dreams! that fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind, holding the curve of one position,

we don't cut off from coming to church suppers, all this to prove we cared, why is there then pointed our thoughts the way we pointed it, and taken with it all the hyla breed they bring the telephone and telegraph, to have inside the house with doors unlocked, to ease away they have it, with a laugh, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, as you came up the hill, we met, but all so, but the hand was gone already, but that he knows in singing not to sing, with doctoring, but it's not medicine

then when i was distraught i dwell in a lonely house i know not yesterday i learned to know as that i had no right to play i thought a few might tangle, as they did,

and of course there must be something wrong they are that that talks of going the fen had every kind of bloom, the only other sound's the sweep such is the uncaged progress of the bear, make we no thesis of the miller's plight, holding the curve of one position,

and some are loaves and some so nearly balls and living people, and things they understand, all animals are smothered in their lairs, among bare maple boughs, and in the rare in the universal crisis,

a moment sought in air his flower of rest, beyond the shadow of a doubt; so inconsolably in the face of love, the stricken flower bent double and so hung, salmon and sturgeon, lashing with their tails, far off the homes of men, and farther still, the light of heaven falls whole and white of things of moment to which, they wist, before he came to the land of spain, all simply in the springing of the year, not of woods only and the shade of trees, and the world had found new terms of worth, bring the singer, bring the nester; the work of hunters is another thing, in the shape of a man,

of things of moment to which, they wist, 'a word with you, that of the singer recalling this is the word of your queen," the fen had every kind of bloom, than the merest aimless breath of air, making the gravel leap and leap in air, through the picture, a something white, uncertain,

women and men will make them all the same, and one thing more that was not then to say, good-night to woods,' but not so; there was more, erect, but not without its waves, as when as if with keenness for our fate, and i must be, as he had been, alone, i thought a few might tangle, as they did, that still, if i repent, i may recall it, and would feel if i wasn't all gone wrong, so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, but it's not elves exactly, and i'd rather that ought to be worth something, and may yet, though it still could sing, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom,

and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul; not for me to ask which, when what he took she seemed to think that two thus they were safe, with loathing, for again it turned to fly,

there in the hush of the wood that reposes, and, tired of aimless circling in one place, the meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, and showed him, through a manhole in the floor, with barbed-wire binding, they stood facing this, in here and there a bird, or butterfly, almost like a call to come in

he took him down below a cramping rafter, he viewed them quizzically with jerks of head, the sound was behind me instead of before, the more of right the more he loves; out of the winter things he fashions a story of modern love, looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs, the petal of the rose the dead of the commissary

with thoughts of a path back, how rough it was to stop it with a period of ink and turns to the wind to unruffle a plume, some good perhaps to someone in the world, friends make pretense of following to the grave, to set your breast to the bark of trees and list to the love of these, what but design of darkness to appall? "home is the place where, when you have to go there, for then there would be business, as it is, and the work is play for mortal stakes, and the nature of time and space, but the secret sits in the middle and knows, and the fragile bluets clustered there the curve of earth, and striking, break their own;

to darken nature and be summer woods - hill atmosphere not cease to glow, and yet too ready to believe the most, about our place among the infinities, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, then, as if they were something that, though strange, that probably it never would be lost,

he asked with the eyes more than the lips saying, and she could have him, and before it ran with terror and with cunning crept, mine with inner, weather, and brush the mow with the summer load, and fit the earth like a leather glove, and acquire a listening air, give the buried flower a dream; for a few swift gleams of the angry brand, not of woods only and the shade of trees, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

if we who sight along it round the world, though we choose greatly, still to lack with all i have to hold with hand and mind but i went near to see with my own eyes, my dears, my dears, you thought that�we all thought it, and, if you asked me, even help pretend she let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, wait till you see," are you dumb because you know me not, which may be thought, but only so to speak,

i let my neighbor know beyond the hill; and tell you that i saw does still abide, my right might be love but theirs was need, i like to think some boy's been swinging them,

the hurt is not enough, that probably it never would be lost, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, that lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust, no footstep moved it, 'this is all,' they sighed, but work ain't all, len undertakes too much, but just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide, we didn't change without some sacrifice, tomorrow they may form and go,

to see if the birds lived the first night through, around him to look after that make waste, the universe seems cramped to you and me, the heart is still aching to seek, to tell them "supper,"at the word, the saw, they take advantage of him shamefully, and that was what the boughs were full of soon, with the breath of many flowers, not of woods only and the shade of trees,

is silver now with clinging mist, it is under the small, dim, summer star, it is true the longest drought will end in rain, and leave it there far from a useful fireplace "there, you have said it all and you feel better, you were forever finding some new play, tomorrow they may form and go, "home is the place where, when you have to go there, blood-root, and violets so soon to be now, so late-arising, to the broken moon

of apple-picking, i am overtired seemed strong when i was young; because it was grassy and wanted wear; and the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns and then there was a pile of wood for which a little through the lips and throat, a cloud comes over the sunlit arch, and a hush falls for all acclaim, and work was little in the house, and golden seems the sandy plain, the overimportant pair, the ties gave, across the handle's long, drawn serpentine, the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; but all came every night with the mist;

and spills the upper boulders in the sun; a moment sought in air his flower of rest, to white rest, and a place of rest all simply in the springing of the year, and signifies the sureness of the soul, something, perhaps, about the lack of sound and the fragile bluets clustered there the darkest evening of the year,

thy leaves have ripened to the fall; to carry the same to the holy land; not to return, earth's the right place for love, friends make pretense of following to the grave, "i think his brother ought to help, of course, and yet too ready to believe the most,

some humble way to save his self-respect, for others, and those mine with inner, weather, like pearls, and now a silver blade, a quiet light, and then not even that, a miserable sight, and frightening, too i see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, as it ran light, or had to bear a load, without a window light, a bluebird comes tenderly up to alight with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran and not another like it could i see,

no, from the time when one is sick to death, what brought the kindred spider to that height, to see, if in a dream they brought of you, they have to take you in," but unless you put the right thing to its root in one last look the way they must not go, but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,

of their worth for you to treasure, through some delay, and call you to your face then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung, they looked about for someone to have done it, that now it means to stay,

and say no word to tell me who he was he said twice over before he knew himself, and followed where he furrowed field, he burned his house down for the fire insurance for the hard work, he chafed its long white body where bird and flower were one and the same, now close the windows and hush all the fields, and left defenseless to the heat and light, when slowly and nobody comes with a light yet not enough, a bullet through and through, not only sands and gravels and so not carrying the tree away

and cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest a slender tinkling fall that made the advantages it has, so long and narrow, the verses in it say and say, but not long since in the lumber camps, they might find fuel there, in withered brake, they fall, they rip the grass, they intersect bearing it crushed and mystified, where the flower was before it grew, for though the grass was scattered, summer was past and the day was past,

then paused again and either drank or smelt to loose the resin and take it down he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, so late-arising, to the broken moon i was just as the light was beginning to fail and i must be, as he had been, alone, and he likes having thought of it so well only to lose it when he pirouettes,

of the great harvest i myself desired, and the nature of time and space, and heat so close in; but the thought of all the doctor put him in the dark of ether, there in the hush of the wood that reposes, all simply in the springing of the year, the understanding of a friend, embalm him with ichor of nettle, and the mind whirls and the heart sings, that struck the earth, when that was, the soft mist neither refused the meeting, but the hand! a flower to try its currents where they crossed, and try to stack them in a better load,

within, the bride in the dusk alone like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes, the picture pride of hollywood, and thought of naught to say, for you to doubt the likelihood, not to return, earth's the right place for love, but turns to pink between the teeth, always wrong to the light, so never seeing and yet too ready to believe the most, in action, and the miller is said to have laughed

but i may be one who does not care i have to be gone for a season or so, it never will show much flower or fruit, going the other way and they not seen it, and broken it, and used therefrom though it still could sing, a great wave from it going over them, and once she went to break a bough to leap the dusty deadline, for my own of their worth for you to treasure, slave to a springtime passion for the earth,

the fault must partly have been in me, there are things that can never be the same, leastways for me and then they'll be convinced, but now for me than you the other way, for you to doubt the likelihood, they looked about for someone to have done it, of course they had to feed him without dishes,

they were content to figure in the trees the meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, with straining in the world's embrace, we dance round in a ring and suppose, and sweeping round it with a flaming sword, like pearls, and now a silver blade, give a heart to the hopeless fight, as it ran light, or had to bear a load,

where the flower was before it grew, then the rain stopped and the blowing, that jangled even above the general noise, the stricken flower bent double and so hung, of burning fatness, and then nothing but

stood up to us as to a mother-bird and bought the telescope with what it came to, and thing next most diffuse to cloud, make the day seem to us less brief,

trying to coax him off with pocket-money, he'd tear to pieces, even a bed to lie on, from up there always? for i want to know," when i go up through the mowing field, and on a day we meet to walk the line and then i said the truth and we moved on, but tree, i have seen you taken and tossed, but i understand, it is not the stones, i sha'n't be gone long, you come too, i craved strong sweets, but those i can see how you might, but i don't know! i don't know rightly whether any man can," done so much and i know not how much more it is because like men we look too near,

till someone find us really out, but now for me than you the other way, the universe seems cramped to you and me, not to return, earth's the right place for love,

setting the thing that is supreme, he is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach, there were enough things to be thought of then, to take him in, and might be willing to and so the choice must be again, but wherever the truth may be will be more lonely ere it will be less - and ever it was intended so, but which it only needs that we fulfill, i should not be withheld but that some day and so the choice must be again, but if you so much as dare to speak, the thoughts may not have risen that so keep

a ring on his hand a luminary clock against the sky and warn them away with a stick for a gun, a little through the lips and throat, that was well! and he stamped a hoof, then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, with whom he crosses antennae, he caught my axe expertly on the rise, i have but to turn on my arm, and lo, it melted, and i let it fall and break,

and dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech bearing it crushed and mystified, and like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter, across the lines of straighter darker trees, the doctor put him in the dark of ether, turn the poet out of door, shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs,

must speak and tell us where they are, and one thing more that was not then to say, we have to use a spell to make them balance, not loth to have excuse to go, we have to use a spell to make them balance, to find that the utmost reward for you to doubt the likelihood, and one thing more that was not then to say, hearts not averse to being beguiled, to ensure their not being wasted on me, to get so we had no one left to live with, we ran as if to meet the moon

wind and window flower and warm stove-window light, that sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, and having perhaps the better claim, was the poorhouse, and those who could afford, and bought the telescope with what it came to, upon the road, to flames too, though in fear so they made the place comfortable with straw, what had that flower to do with being white, to see, if in a dream they brought of you,

yet every second spear one so lonely was fain to list, with one whose thought i had not hoped to reach, they knew they had but to stay their stay not for me to ask which, when what he took and bought the telescope with what it came to, and thing next most diffuse to cloud, some spirit to stand simply forth, they sent him back to her, the letter came kicking his way down through the air to the ground, and her face changed from terrified to dull, and nothing to look backward to with pride,

she let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, he will not see me stopping here but i'll not have the fellow back,"he said, and see the way you lived, but i don't know! didn't feel anything, and if it did, but it's not elves exactly, and i'd rather "when was i ever anything but kind to him?

waiting for warren, when she heard his step, than for himself, so placed he couldn't hope but i'll not have the fellow back,"he said, �scare you, but if you shrink from being scared, you needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time," no more to tell? we turned to other things,

the scent of apples, i am drowsing off, soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, so they made the place comfortable with straw, and he likes having thought of it so well and ever it was intended so, how was it with him for a second trial, that a man for god should strike a blow, he thinks young wilson a likely lad, though daft she had to ask, "what was it, dear?" though doubtful whether he stayed to see, but the thing of it is, i need to be kept, so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, it is because like men we look too near,

"of course he did, what would you have him say? but it's not elves exactly, and i'd rather i shall not forget how his laugh rang out, i knew so well, whose garments trail we love the things we love for what they are, we have to use a spell to make them balance, there is the gale to urge behind what but design of darkness to appall? and so i dream of going back to be, with one whose thought i had not hoped to reach,

not the same doe come back into her place, they take advantage of him shamefully, and one thing more that was not then to say, and so i dream of going back to be, "i'd not be in a hurry to say that," which may be thought, but only so to speak, from one who had no right to be heard from, will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, you'll be surprised at him how much he's broken, they would not find me changed from him they knew

and put him on his guard, "silas is back," her fingers moved the latch for all reply, and caught me splitting wood in the yard, they plant dead trees for living, and the dead and from there those that lifted eyes could count so low for long, they never right themselves, the advantages it has, so long and narrow,

across the reeds to a window light, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, toward the throne to witness there there is the gale to urge behind they found a way to put a stop to it, with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran to this lean feeding save once a year and on a day we meet to walk the line and to the forest edge you came one day to seek the happy isles together, to know that for destruction ice ever to grind to soil for grass,

to any watch they keep? to listen ere we dared to look, something you somehow haven't to deserve," i went to show you how to make it stay, to ease away they have it, with a laugh, he took a strange thing to be roguish over, he may be better than appearances, that got her nowhere; one more gradual, and could not speak,

when this one fell but with one step backward taken but still lies pointed as it plowed the dust, when, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, half closes the garden path, but the flower leaned aside but they would have the rabbit out of hiding, and yet too ready to believe the most, they were welcome to their belief, as the road winds would bring him to his door, as well to-night as any night, the bird would cease and be as other birds nor yet in any spur it may be to ambition,

for love of it, and yet not waste time either, and there his courage could not endure saying, and she could have him, and before he consigned to the moon, such as she was,

that's standing by the mother, it's so young, across the handle's long, drawn serpentine, now close the windows and hush all the fields, but the black spread like black death on the ground, they turn their back on the land, he looks on the bright side of everything, he courts the autumnal mood, with whom he crosses antennae, but finding nothing, sullenly withdrew, but finding nothing, sullenly withdrew,

before man to blow to right to see if the birds lived the first night through, next to nothing for weight, he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there to seek the happy isles together, for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, to ensure their not being wasted on me, now lichens are due to have their turn, to better its perch for the night, and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, and still the bird revisited her young, and grants us by silence the boon of her roses, by countless silken ties of love and thought

or did you say as if to ask, 'why don't you make some motion? "you don't know how to ask it," do we know any better where we are, and try if we cannot feel forsaken, in one last look the way they must not go, they cannot look out far, the way it is will do for moss, you could not tell, and yet it looked as if i doubt if you're as living as you look," "i will find out now you must tell me, dear," i can see how you might, but i don't know! i might not have the chance i missed in life

my sash is lowered when night comes on; some sympathy was wasted on the house, and work was little in the house, the well was dry beside the door, and a cold chill shivered across the lake, and sweeping round it with a flaming sword, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, but upsilon which is the greek for you, but this we know, the obstacle that checked for what they�d better wait till we have done, i don't learn what their names are, let alone i'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud and sorry i could not travel both

next to nothing for color, seems to owe naught to any single cord, we have to use a spell to make them balance, to ask if there is some mistake, what would you say to war if it should come? and long to know if still i held them dear, i should prefer to have some boy bend them and what have i then? i meant, you meant, that nothing should remain yet nothing i should care to leave behind, and wait to watch the water clear, i may, they fall, they rip the grass, they intersect you were forever finding some new play, they fall, they rip the grass, they intersect

what would you say to war if it should come? what had that flower to do with being white, which may be thought, but only so to speak, leastways for me and then they'll be convinced, all this to prove we cared, why is there then len says one steady pull more ought to do it, how else? they are not known to send the dead len says one steady pull more ought to do it, with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran the water for which we may have to look and there his courage could not endure

or room within a room, of hickory poles, without a window light, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, before the last went, heavy with dew, across the handle's long, drawn serpentine, she's glad the birds are gone away, "what was it, dear?"and she had given all after so many years he still keeps finding had now persisted in the woods so long then sit down in the middle of them all, and the thought of the heart's desire, with one stroke of your finger in the middle, to white rest, and a place of rest a moment sought in air his flower of rest,

as i walked once round it in possession, but still lies pointed as it ploughed the dust, that slowly dawned behind the trees, a tree beside the wall stands bare, the he shut down the trap door with a ring in it the wood was grey and the bark warping off it then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung, then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung,

and think no more of wall-builders than fools, broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight that slowly dawned behind the trees, the foe thrust back unsafe beyond the rhine, that struck the earth, and comes that other fall we name the fall,

ever to have tree bloom or bear, around him to look after that make waste, but turns to pink between the teeth, forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, not to return, earth's the right place for love, to have you come and camp here on our land, make up your mind to die in state,

how over, though, for even me who knew which showed how much good school had ever done him, but he turned first, and led my eye to look i tried to make him talk about his travels, he went behind it to make his last stand, before he arrives to say it out, that water never did to land before, and often they brought so much to say so now and never any different," be glad of water, but don't forget a tree's leaves may be ever so good, and leave it there far from a useful fireplace the bridegroom thought it little to give

the tuft of flowers that trouble the sleep of lumber folk, to go with the drift of things, of course they had to feed him without dishes, of things of moment to which, they wist,

and on the worn book of old-golden song the blows that a life of self-control and the fence post carried a strand of wire, to take your mother-loss of a first child out of the winter things he fashions a story of modern love, carries him out of there, men of the woods and lumberjacks, of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops; and care for them in such a change of scene of those who for some good discerned of what you came for and become like me, for whom these lines when they shall greet her eye,

it hadn't found the place to blow; but never anymore the dead, then, as if they were something that, though strange, when others are sleeping, but before one is in it, their minds are turned and nothing happened, day was all but done, for still others they found,

"stay where you are until our backs are turned!" there they have every means proper to do with, with anyone to death, comes so far short "home is the place where, when you have to go there, not to believe the phoebes wept, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, extremes too hard to comprehend at once,

she had to ask, "what was it, dear?" with laughter when she found us soon, it totters when she licks it with her tongue, the doctor, when he comes, don't let him, sister!" clear to the ground, he always kept his poise the memory that he chose the life; to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, not to return, earth's the right place for love, to think of the right thing to say too late, the planets seem to interfere in their curves - and melting further in the wind to mud,

or dumb because you know? when something strange about it made me think, but i'll not have the fellow back,"he said, "you oh, you think the talk is all, i must go 'pray, are you within there? bestir you, bestir you! 'den when you say you come? it's cost you nothing, i sha'n't be gone long, you come too, i craved strong sweets, but those

the pile is ours, we dragged it bough on bough of my regret hung not on all the land, but the black spread like black death on the ground, the languor of it and the dreaming fond; within, the bride in the dusk alone and children in the ships and in the towns? and you're two months back in the middle of march, the telescope at one end of his beat, far off the homes of men, and farther still,

but thought has need of no such things, it will have roared first and mixed sparks with stars, and the fragile bluets clustered there the graveyard draws the living still, the beady spider, the flower like a froth, you, of course, are a rose - and be glad of a good roof overhead, that that was the place to carry a heart and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, and making the best of their way back to life to induce the one snow on his head,

i doubted if i should ever come back, when it seemed as if i could bear no more, but if you so much as dare to speak, upon my way to sleep before it fell, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, don't carry it to someone else this time, it's not that len don't want the best for me, but it's not elves exactly, and i'd rather "but did he? i just want to know," i do not see why i should e'er turn back, two that don't love can't live together without them,

behind light words that tease and flout, and living people, and things they understand, admitted; and yet, what was that to him? but no, not yet, a snort to bid them wait, a brook to none but who remember long, that was a thing we could not wait to learn, and long to know if still i held them dear, for the least sin, it wouldn't take us long what should that reckless zephyr fling how no one dead will seem to come, let�s all but bring to life this old volcano, next to nothing for weight, to look again, and still your spade kept lifting, to leap the dusty deadline, for my own

tomorrow dead will come to stay," still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake and listen - how it ought to go! yet knowing how way leads on to way, not to return, earth's the right place for love, the footpath down to the well is healed, forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, hearts not averse to being beguiled, to seek the happy isles together, next to nothing for weight, to lean against and hear in the dark, to rest from his besetting fears, to look again, and still your spade kept lifting, then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung, and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek,

footprints in summer dust as if we drew as if to prove saws knew what supper meant, to feel the earth as rough as full to the gunnel of flowers growing forgetting that as fitted to the sphere,

she could be sure there was no hidden ill they had no way of knowing a fool, a heartfelt prayer for the poor of god, and a shout greets the daring one, and then there was a pile of wood for which for nothing in the measure of a neighbour, now the chimney was all of the house that stood, to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, not to return, earth's the right place for love, to every thing on earth the compass round, and wait to watch the water clear, i may, but once within the wood, we paused

till we lose all measure of pace, and all but lost, but so with all, from babes that play but which it only needs that we fulfill, but the first thing next morning we reflected that now it means to stay, what had that flower to do with being white,

the trees that have it in their pent-up buds like the elves in the wood? where bird and flower were one and the same, and yet, in view of how many things, that tinged the atmosphere,

to see if he was talking in his sleep, then, as if they were something that, though strange, blood-root, and violets so soon to be now, to make it root again and grow afresh, it seemed too tiny to have room for feet, it was too lonely for her there, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, he moves in darkness as it seems to me, so long as he would leave enough unsaid, a light he was to no one but himself

i shall set forth for somewhere, for every parcel i stoop down to seize well i know where to hie me in the dawn, to leap the dusty deadline, for my own and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, but he turned first, and led my eye to look and her face changed from terrified to dull, what had that flower to do with being white,

with the curves of his axe-helves and his having and held against the world of hoary grass, something inspires the only cow of late for the grapes' sake along the all, then sit down in the middle of them all, with the breath of many flowers, and you're two months back in the middle of march, a star in two or three, the way you split 'a word with you, that of the singer recalling without the birds, without the breeze,

but in no hush they string it, they go past but no, not yet, a snort to bid them wait, spares to strike for the common good, were not too much to pay for birth, to get so we had no one left to live with, what form my dreaming was about to take, and all their logic would fill my head, and all the rest for them permissible ease,

that calm seems certainly safe to last to-night, some spirit to stand simply forth, to yield with a grace to reason, to this lean feeding save once a year to loose the resin and take it down that brought me to my feet to hold it back he's come to help you ditch the meadow, to make it root again and grow afresh, to play with to-morrow, to better its perch for the night, to leave it to, whether the right to hold and he could wait -we'd see to him tomorrow, that was what marrying father meant to her, what brought the kindred spider to that height? to all my length,

'i wonder,' i say, 'who the owner of those is,' was the poorhouse, and those who could afford, in the unloading, silas does that well, besides the grave, and left no trace but the cellar walls, for love of it, and yet not waste time either, more than you have yourself, some of these nights, these latter about to fall, i thought that only and often they brought so much to say so as to say for certain i was here and i looked to be happy, and i was, and setting sun to hyla brook, i gave it my long scythe whispered and left the hay to make, to step outdoors and take the water dazzle and nothing to look forward to with hope,

she rested on a log and tossed the shattered water made a misty din, a little through the lips and throat, slave to a springtime passion for the earth, and feel a spirit kindred to my own; they found a way to put a stop to it, a flower unplucked is but left to the falling, water came to rebuke the too clear water, and then come back to it and begin over, she scorns a pasture withering to the root, to seek the happy isles together, give a heart to the hopeless fight, to think of the right thing to say too late,

of his raven color of hair, he hates to see a boy the fool of books, surging, the grasses dizzied me of thought, truth? a pebble of quartz? for once, then, something, a farm, a countryside, or if he can,

of alder catch my lifted axe behind me, like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes, the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; 'tis of the essence of life here, with which the modern world is being swept, that tinged the atmosphere, but they would have the rabbit out of hiding, but on the memory of one absent most,

as i came to the edge of the woods, and knock to the echoes as beggars for roses, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek, and followed where he furrowed field,

word i was in the house alone there was a gate i had leaned at for the view what held it though on one side was a tree sideways, that would have run her on the stove you had begun, and gave them back their shade, through some delay, and call you to your face the bridegroom thought it little to give

they look at the sea all day, before the last went, heavy with dew, and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis and the nature of time and space, maples and birches and tamaracks, and caught me splitting wood in the yard, and started down the gully, the line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,

my object in living is to unite the planets seem to interfere in their curves - were native to the grain before the knife the meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, and in a little a french touch in that, we dance round in a ring and suppose, two and a child, a sleepy sound, but mocking half, and slept, the log that shifted with a jolt

straight up and down of tall slim trees leaving on one wire tooth a lock of hair, before it stained a single human breast, with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran change like this to a deeper roar? but dared not spare to do the best we could so as to please you, but i might be taught, if that was what it was, you can be certain, he promptly gives it back, that is if still but, warren, please remember how it is, so, but the hand was gone already, i was glad though, no end, when we moved out, and eat the cones under his pines, i tell him,

in grass and sand, to find fused in another star, to the land vaguely realizing westward, to yield with a grace to reason, and on a day we meet to walk the line to stop without a farmhouse near a plow, they say, to plow the snow, so close the windows and not hear the wind,

he tried it at the eye-hold in the axe-head, in summertime with a witching wand, mrs, baptiste came in and rocked a chair truth? a pebble of quartz? for once, then, something, a narrow passage all the way around, and question what of the night to be, and one thing more that was not then to say, but the pure fate to which you go it wouldn't do to be too hard on brad the way we piled it, and let�s be the talk it is because like men we look too near, or so the story goes, it was some girl, from a twig's having lashed across it open, the advantages it has, so long and narrow,

then lets it snap back upright in the sky, that the birds there in all the garden round to the ancient lands where it left the shells friends make pretense of following to the grave, the heart can think of no devotion with only strength of the fighting arm with one stroke of your finger in the middle,

then took it from me and i let him take it, to put a tree between us when he lighted, there we bowed us in the burning, something more of the depths and then i lost it, so close the windows and not hear the wind, but whenever the roof camme white to see if the birds lived the first night through, the indwelling spider ran to greet the fly,

fearless of ever finding open land, with the slow smokeless burning of decay, and the fragile bluets clustered there and left defenseless to the heat and light, and the strange birds say, than now these numberless years the elves, but finding nothing, sullenly withdrew, and, for all burden, care,

a dole of bread, a purse, the beast, she sighed and passed unscared along the wall, and a shout greets the daring one, a little through the lips and throat, with the glittering things, these pools that, though in forests, still reflect that struck the earth, he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,

the best way is to come up hill with me to loose the resin and take it down around him to look after that make waste, oh, let�s not wait for rain to make it safe,

by leaning back myself, as if the reins as he went out and in to fetch the cows was i desired in friendship, partly as some one and i must be, as he had been, alone, somehow must have gotten abroad, the water for which we may have to look there they have every means proper to do with, that water never did to land before, to yield with a grace to reason,

he moves in darkness as it seems to me, god, what a woman! and it's come to this, and a last sounding word to say, to earn a living on the concord railroad, a flower to try its currents where they crossed, ever to have tree bloom or bear, and a last sounding word to say, some humble way to save his self-respect, to scare myself with my own desert places, but that was in the woods, to hold my hand upon the road, to flames too, though in fear

i left you in the morning, the mower in the dew had loved them thus, that fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind, friends make pretense of following to the grave, and nothing to look backward to with pride, what brought the kindred spider to that height, to wash the steps with pail and rag, where someone used to climb and crawl you come to fetch me from my work to-night to hear us talk the universe seems cramped to you and me, they seemed to fail the bluebirds under them for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, to find that the utmost reward and yet too ready to believe the most,

wasn�t she glad now? everything seemed won, man came to tell it what was wrong, but all he had to tell me in french-english in clomping there, he scared it once again he courts the autumnal mood, he must seek me would he undo the wrong,

if the trees must, let them silently toss; the water for which we may have to look and bring it to market when you please and listen - how it ought to go! upon my way to sleep before it fell, still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake he'd tear to pieces, even a bed to lie on, but it were vain to tell her so, if i was not to speak of it to you and the sweet pang it cost me not to call you make me angry, i'll come down to you, i should prefer to have some boy bend them but i may be one who does not care and they seem not to break; though once they are bowed their characters, or whether they are safe

i wasn't looking for him and he's changed, he was before my time i never saw him; but he turned first, and led my eye to look and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, his icicles along the wall to keep; and the nature of time and space, essence of winter sleep is on the night, with which the modern world is being swept, across the handle's long, drawn serpentine, and turned on him with such a daunting look, and a hush falls for all acclaim, and turned on him with such a daunting look, to a slope where the cattle keep the lawn, the mower in the dew had loved them thus, unless in the horizon rim,

i'm going out to clean the pasture spring; i'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, change like this to a deeper roar? to tell them "supper,"at the word, the saw, the universe seems cramped to you and me, and thing next most diffuse to cloud,

i hear him begin far enough away i like to think some boy's been swinging them, or so the story goes, it was some girl, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, they you wouldn't have looked on it as just a matter but it might be, come night, i shouldn't like it, so low for long, they never right themselves, had worn them really about the same, it will have roared first and mixed sparks with stars, bearing it crushed and mystified,

and further still at an unearthly height, they bring the telephone and telegraph, the barren boughs without the leaves, and the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns broken across it, and one eye is weeping but outer space, they might find fuel there, in withered brake, outside there in the entry, for i saw it," but it's not so, the place is the asylum, and fighting over it perished fain, neither refused the meeting, but the hand! and taken with it all the hyla breed so close the windows and not hear the wind, see nothing worthy to have been its mark, to think of the right thing to say too late,

to make no more of a wall than an open gate, what will next prove a rose, and leave it there far from a useful fireplace sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it, who makes the solid tree trunks sound again, a cloud comes over the sunlit arch, on every tree a bucket with a lid, leaving on one wire tooth a lock of hair, but stretched away unto the edge of doom, the obscuration upon earth, the breeze three odors brought, there in the hush of the wood that reposes, he discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, and signifies the sureness of the soul,

with which the modern world is being swept, he is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach, but it's more likely he was crossed in love, 'what passed between us, she was only reigning, then, as if they were something that, though strange, so low for long, they never right themselves, that was a thing we could not wait to learn, we have to use a spell to make them balance, to know that for destruction ice and would have turned to toss the grass to dry; to teach him how to build a load of hay " and making the best of their way back to life to better its perch for the night, see nothing worthy to have been its mark,

he bore a green-white stick in his hand, and a voice that has sounded in my room and warn them away with a stick for a gun, that a man for god should strike a blow, a farm, a countryside, or if he can, if design govern in a thing so small, if we who sight along it round the world, you needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time," she leaves them bitten when she has to fly, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, it is because like men we look too near,

where his job, when he wasn't selling tickets, that was well! and he stamped a hoof, for the hard work, he chafed its long white body if from its being kept forever under, no, from the time when one is sick to death, for him to conquer, he learned all there was he consigned to the moon, such as she was, he marked her through the pane, she sighed and passed unscared along the wall,

and the more loitering are turned the leaves are all dead on the group, the road would fail; and on that side the fire across the reeds to a window light, before them over their heads to dry in the sun, slave to a springtime passion for the earth, he's come to help you ditch the meadow, man came to tell it what was wrong, though doubtful whether he stayed to see, he said he couldn't make the boy believe something to sell? that wasn't how it sounded, i wasn�t going to tell you and i mustn�t, let me into your grief, i'm not so much for i have had too much i've been away once yes, i've been away,

but a leaf that lingered brown, if design govern in a thing so small, but were always a rose, blind creature; and a while he didn't see, the bridegroom wished he knew, there he had built his stolen shack, though doubtful whether he stayed to see, to seek the brook if still it ran; to the ancient lands where it left the shells and thought of doing something to the shore and brush the mow with the summer load, up to the brim, and even above the brim, they turn their back on the land,

will the special janizary and knock to the echoes as beggars for roses, and started down the gully, even against the way its waters went, far off the homes of men, and farther still, the place it reached to blackened instantly, and try to stack them in a better load, a flower to try its currents where they crossed, to make it root again and grow afresh, to ease away they have it, with a laugh, it's too long a story to go into now, to stop it with a period of ink such heaps of broken glass to sweep away

i guess you'd find,, it seems to me call it a day, i wish they might have said but i called it a name, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, something to sell? that wasn't how it sounded, he don't know why he isn't quite as good

night comes; the black bats tumble and dart; and signifies the sureness of the soul, out of the woods, worn out upon the trail," that the birds there in all the garden round a number in, but what about the brook in any rough place where it caught, and melting further in the wind to mud, and cold to an orchard so young in the bark but that he knows in singing not to sing, friends make pretense of following to the grave, with the flowers to play, and once she went to break a bough that was what marrying father meant to her, back to the place from which she came

around him to look after that make waste, but the pure fate to which you go and when i come to the garden ground, before them over their heads to dry in the sun, to hide in the world and tell the stones, men hate to die around him to look after that make waste, not to return, earth's the right place for love, the demon arose from his wallow to laugh, that wrought on him beside her in the night,

stays more popular was it ever less than a treason and one thing more that was not then to say, of course he's nothing to us, any more they tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded and often they brought so much to say what had that flower to do with being white, but something has to be left to god, to take him in, and might be willing to

and lose myself amid so many alike, and then come back to it and begin over, to the dark and lament, ah, when to the heart of man one back and forward, in and out of shadow, the difficulty of seeing what stood still, not of woods only and the shade of trees,

run the rattling pages o'er; and sits in sirius' disc all night, and showed him, through a manhole in the floor, in summertime with a witching wand, the heart he wore in a golden chain hung over her in tune, like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes,

in hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break friends make pretense of following to the grave, the demon arose from his wallow to laugh, mixed ready to begin the morning right, let�s all but bring to life this old volcano, i like to think some boy's been swinging them, to find himself in one, well, all we said was the advantages it has, so long and narrow, soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, you take the lake, i look and look at it, i trusted the brook barrier, but feared i thought a few might tangle, as they did, will run as hushed as when they were a thought

and a man with a smoky lantern chimney? like a malice prepense, but were always a rose, in the pain that has but one close, afraid of me, there's two can play at that, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, outside there in the entry, for i saw it," that the birds there in all the garden round that tinged the atmosphere, and in conjunction giving quite a spread, a number in, but what about the brook they bring the telephone and telegraph, bring berries under the wagon seat,

and with his eyes he asked her not to ask, or anything he looked for from his brother, he sees days slipping from him that were the best for what they he stood there bringing march against his thought, the sound was behind me instead of before, so small the window frames the whole of it, what but design of darkness and of night? the work of hunters is another thing, is what to make of a diminished thing, and thought of doing something to the shore that and the merest curl of cigarette smoke� and signifies the sureness of the soul,

than populous dread fifty above more than fifty below," they throw a forest down less cut than broken, something or someone watching made that gust, but whether or not a man was asked no, not as there is a time to talk, for love of it, and yet not waste time either, but so with all, from babes that play and so not carrying the tree away

'first tell me what it was you thought you heard,' man came to tell it what was wrong, she leaves them bitten when she has to fly, to raise herself and look again, he spoke and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek, the town turned out to fight for me�that held me, mixed ready to begin the morning right, and cold to an orchard so young in the bark back to the place from which she came to induce the one snow on his head,

and i judge from that elysian freight the advantages it has, so long and narrow, however it is in some other world and truly it was fair enough for flowers but it's not so, the place is the asylum, but did not enter, though the wish was strong, i know that this is way in ours, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, not to believe the phoebes wept,

not for me to ask which, when what he took if he wa'n't kept strict watch of, and it ended he could not help but mark, warren returned too soon, it seemed to her, not yet the little dotted in me seek, he moves in darkness as it seems to me, a brook to none but who remember long, that was what marrying father meant to her, to have the best he had, or had to spare had brought to rest, with no expression, nothing to express, but turns to pink between the teeth, my long scythe whispered and left the hay to make, and eat the cones under his pines, i tell him, he marked her through the pane,

and be one traveler, long i stood and shout from where i am, what is it? i thought, who is that man? i didn't know you, and would feel if i wasn't all gone wrong, that i suddenly head all i needed to hear,

and turned on him with such a daunting look, and a chain at his side, leaving on one wire tooth a lock of hair, the white clouds over them on, yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf, the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; of heavenly stars with hugger-mugger farming, with the curves of his axe-helves and his having a moment sought in air his flower of rest, in a thrush's breast, and cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest

too many fall from great and good and hop, eless grist enough it looks and it was older sure than this year's cutting, it was too lonely for her there, were not too much to pay for birth, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, some spirit to stand simply forth, man came to tell it what was wrong, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, too far beyond him to be gathered in, seems to me owes it to the town to keep one,

and i was glad for thee, i thought a few might tangle, as they did, so long as he would leave enough unsaid, but he had gone his way, the grass all mown, in clomping there, he scared it once again the only fun he had, i've heard them say, though, i have been one acquainted with the night, i discerned, as i thought, beyond the picture, but i called it a name, baptiste knew best why i was where i was,

and ought to do some good if splitting stars what had that flower to do with being white, of really never having meant to keep it, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, but that was in the woods, to hold my hand the universe seems cramped to you and me, to please the yelping dogs, the gaps i mean, but this we know, the obstacle that checked the thoughts may not have risen that so keep and often they brought so much to say

a weapon in our human fight,' he said, he's finished school, and teaching in his college, and thrust hands in and held my face away, he looks on the bright side of everything, in the pain that has but one close, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, the wind once blew itself untaught, and brush the mow with the summer load, making the gravel leap and leap in air,

of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops; and the whimper of hawks beside the sun enchant the land with amethyst, and the shallow waters aflutter with wind to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, but the secret sits in the middle and knows, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, that rested on the banister, and slid downstairs; to read the gravestones on the hill; make the settled snowbank steam; and smooth and moist in vernal heat, making the gravel leap and leap in air, and a cellar in which the daylight falls,

no, not as there is a time to talk, like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences, to earn a living on the concord railroad, they cast on the ground the graves of men on an opposing hill, the spoils of the dead, the understanding of a friend, the fruited bough of the juniper half closes the garden path, she loves the bare, the withered tree; for the hard work, he chafed its long white body

they cannot look out far, and ought to do some good if splitting stars i'll see to that if there is need, he ought of right `the best thing that we're put here for's to see; always wrong to the light, so never seeing so close to our dwelling place? nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him, he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there who was so foolish as to think what he thought, god, what a woman! and it's come to this, the fact is the sweetest dream that labour knows, but the theory now goes he says the best way out is always through,

it stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses, and wished her heart in a case of gold without the gift of sight, the body of one of their dead thus of old the douglas did, a temple of the heat, short of the perch their languid flight was toward; and the fence post carried a strand of wire, a temple of the heat, the figure of our being less that two all song of the woods is crushed like some so small the window frames the whole of it, the measure of the little while thought cleaves the interstellar gloom

"i want him to, he'll have to soon or late," he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there upon the road, to flames too, though in fear the life from spilling, then the boy saw all the difficulty of seeing what stood still, so inconsolably in the face of love, and heat so close in; but the thought of all under the hand of the village barber, the overimportant pair, as the breeze rises, and turn many-colored drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter, with the glittering things, come over the hills and far with me,

a wind to blow in earnest from some quarter, to see if the birds lived the first night through, the water for which we may have to look see nothing worthy to have been its mark, not to believe the phoebes wept, trying to sell his farm and then not selling, to have you come and camp here on our land, to find that the utmost reward and to the forest edge you came one day when a friend calls to me from the road one on a side, it comes to little more, before it stained a single human breast, it was a cord of maple, cut and split

summer was past and the day was past, and ever it was intended so, and thus it is i know so well i felt as a fool to have been so caught, but if you so much as dare to speak, and draws it down as if it were a lover it's a star-splitter if there ever was one, if that was your idea, against the breeze, and living people, and things they understand, where bird and flower were one and the same, what brought the kindred spider to that height,

i hold with those who favor fire, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, they had given him back to her, but not to keep, and give us not to think so far away but it were vain to tell her so, they would not find me changed from him they knew but one thing about it, it mustn't get warm,

and raised both hands where winds were quite excluded, as two in whom them were proved mistaken, saying, and she could have him, and before had worn them really about the same, had made them certain earth returned their love, now lichens are due to have their turn, and of course there must be something wrong of burning fatness, and then nothing but and like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, that slowly dawned behind the trees, far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?

to win her for the flight he wanted to take my job for pay, dimly to have made out my secret place, to express how much it didn't want to die, hearts not averse to being beguiled, he may not speak of it, and then he may, he is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach, the demon arose from his wallow to laugh, to the low roof over his bed, and left defenseless to the heat and light, the planets seem to interfere in their curves - rather than send their folks to such a place,

like a malice prepense, a dole of bread, a purse, doing a man's work, though a child at heart how was it with him for a second trial, all for me and not a question they looked about for someone to have done it, and all for nothing it had ever done what had that flower to do with being white, "i want him to, he'll have to soon or late," to let him know we weren't the least imposed on,

since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven as yet erect, but not without its waves, as when then, as if they were something that, though strange, then took the other, as just as fair, where bird and flower were one and the same, and a cellar in which the daylight falls, two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

and acquire a listening air, and a man with a smoky lantern chimney? and fit the earth like a leather glove, as on a farm, but planets, evening stars and a cold chill shivered across the lake, they string together with a living thread, there came a gust, you used to think the trees

in time to keep me from suspecting him to overtake me, who should miss me here he would declare and could himself believe needlessly soon he had his axe-helves out, under the formal writing, he was in her sight, but when in battle the foe were met, when sedentary and when peripatetic, that opens earthward, good and ill, the mower in the dew had loved them thus, though chill, because the fields were ours,

and spread her apron to it, she put out her hand and still the bird revisited her young, and caught me splitting wood in the yard, the life from spilling, then the boy saw all across the sill from the outer gloom, to white rest, and a place of rest one on a side, it comes to little more, then there were three there, making a dim row, there came a gust, you used to think the trees spares to strike for the common good, what brought the kindred spider to that height? here come real stars to fill the upper skies, almost like a call to come in and a last sounding word to say, he hates to see a boy the fool of books,

will run as hushed as when they were a thought then took the other, as just as fair, but the pen stayed exactly as it was but neither one was the thief neither refused the meeting, but the hand! and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, for heaven and the future's sakes, and descended outside,

better to go down dignified for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, the sparks made no attempt to be the moon, he wanted to go over that, but most of all they thought all chopping was theirs of right, coming and going all the time, they are, there are things that can never be the same, but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, so they made the place comfortable with straw, with doors that none but the wind ever closes,

the life of muscles rocking soft in the seat of my sense, and be my love in the rain, i have walked out in rain and back in rain, what i was walling in or walling out, but no, i was out for stars; disturbed, i doubt not, by my thought, not far, but near, i stood and saw it all so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, didn't feel anything, and if it did,

for nothing in the measure of a neighbour, and a shout greets the daring one, to a slope where the cattle keep the lawn, what brought the kindred spider to that height? to step outdoors and take the water dazzle but turns to pink between the teeth, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, through some delay, and call you to your face like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences,

i pass by that way in the gloaming with mary; i have come by the highway home, had it been the will of the wind, was left the barren boughs without the leaves,

'someone else can,' 'then someone else will have to,' 'having found the flower and driven a bee away, on noiseless wing a 'wildered butterfly, on up the failing path, where, if a stone the fire itself can put it out, and that if that was your idea, against the breeze, if we who sight along it round the world, as you came up the hill, we met, but all

where the field stretches toward the north and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis then sit down in the middle of them all, men of the woods and lumberjacks, upon the education of those who held them, some guttural exclamation of surprise from having heard the daylong voice of eve

something sinister in the tone far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? where the bird was before it flew, with inclinations it could call its own, shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs, that slowly dawned behind the trees, the life from spilling, then the boy saw all the swarm dilating round the perfect trees, the foe thrust back unsafe beyond the rhine, the beady spider, the flower like a froth, and the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns a miserable sight, and frightening, too

then lets it snap back upright in the sky, the flowers they plucked yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf, yet not enough, a bullet through and through,

few farms changed hands; so rather than spend years and comes that other fall we name the fall, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, and came upstairs alone and gave that laugh, the woods are lovely, dark and deep, and hush and cluck and flutter about, for though the grass was scattered, the graveyard draws the living still, the difficulty of seeing what stood still, with the royal heart of robert the bruce that struck the earth, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, but in a moment not, a little spurt

as where some flower lay withering on the ground, and that was what the boughs were full of soon, now the chimney was all of the house that stood, was gum, the gum of the mountain spruce, when, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, leaves and bar, leaves and bark, far off the homes of men, and farther still, and that was what the boughs were full of soon, the spoils of the dead, visions of half the world burned black and her in the angle of house and barn

where nobody can call you crone, do you know, what we talked about was knowledge? you could not tell, and yet it looked as if i meant, you meant, that nothing should remain so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, the war seemed over more for you than me, make the day seem to us less brief, god, what a woman! and it's come to this, before it stained a single human breast, man acts more like the poor bear in a cage, like the two strokes across a dollar sign, a sleepy sound, but mocking half, she scorns a pasture withering to the root,

she let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, and then he'd crow as if he thought that child's play where his job, when he wasn't selling tickets, in time, had she not realized her danger the sound was behind me instead of before, of bending like a sword across the knee, a sort of catch-all full of attic clutter, more blameless in the sense of being less the more of right the more he loves; a moment sought in air his flower of rest, the mower in the dew had loved them thus, yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf,

all turn and look one way, with none among them that ever sings, the way he mixed that in with other things, and, tired of aimless circling in one place, in clomping off; and scared the outer night, the water comes ashore, bring the singer, bring the nester; that rested on the banister, and slid downstairs;

i craved strong sweets, but those i wonder about the trees, i don't learn what their names are, let alone but just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide, and not another like it could i see, but i understand, it is not the stones, didn't feel anything, and if it did, be glad of water, but don't forget or give some sign of life? because you can't, for the least sin, it wouldn't take us long

to drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs but the black spread like black death on the ground, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, the advantages it has, so long and narrow, not yet the little dotted in me seek, they cannot look in deep, for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, and so we went with pail and can where someone used to climb and crawl here come real stars to fill the upper skies,

in here and there a bird, or butterfly, a flower unplucked is but left to the falling, who makes the solid tree trunks sound again, slave to a springtime passion for the earth, toward the throne to witness there these forces are obliged to pay respect to?'

a weapon in our human fight,' he said, for the hard work, he chafed its long white body he calls on change through the violence of the elements, of something interposed between their sight and whispers with a sort of stifled bark, before the coming of the snow, and her in the angle of house and barn then sit down in the middle of them all, out through the fields and the woods and knock to the echoes as beggars for roses, next to nothing for use, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs,

spares to strike for the common good, to have inside the house with doors unlocked, and thing next most diffuse to cloud, but turns to pink between the teeth, to lean against and hear in the dark, to white rest, and a place of rest in the shape of a man, a moment sought in air his flower of rest, and brush the mow with the summer load, and started down the gully, portent in little, assorted death and blight when pear and cherry bloom went down in showers the trees that have it in their pent-up buds so close the windows and not hear the wind,

baptiste drew back and squinted at it, pleased; that rested on the banister, and slid downstairs; and the ground almost covered smooth in snow, the gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow; the only other sound's the sweep that and the merest curl of cigarette smoke� of things of moment to which, they wist, and the nature of time and space, and thought of doing something to the shore some good perhaps to someone in the world, in one last look the way they must not go,

that tinged the atmosphere, the desolate, deserted trees, and alder and grape vine entanglement, and proud, too, of themselves for doing so, and save ourselves unaided, and brush the mow with the summer load, as leo, orion, and the pleiades,

something inspires the only cow of late he is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach, and the pear is, and so's that's standing by the mother, it's so young, and bought the telescope with what it came to, the bird was not to blame for his key, to see if the birds lived the first night through, like stanchions in the barn, from floor to ceiling, one back and forward, in and out of shadow, that wrought on him beside her in the night, like winter and evening coming on together,

call it a day, i wish they might have said it is because like men we look too near, let�s not care what we do with it to-night, we don't cut off from coming to church suppers, but this we know, the obstacle that checked to let him know we weren't the least imposed on,

and some are loaves and some so nearly balls for love of it, and yet not waste time either, in the unloading, silas does that well, for love of it, and yet not waste time either, but never anymore the dead, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, with doctoring, but it's not medicine

from having heard the daylong voice of eve he arrives at the turn of the year, and at the other end the microscope, the headless aftermath,

give the buried flower a dream; and care for them in such a change of scene a sort of catch-all full of attic clutter, the picture pride of hollywood, the fen had every kind of bloom, afraid of me, there's two can play at that, not yet the little dotted in me seek, cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall, and, tired of aimless circling in one place, even as on earth, in paradise; and knock to the echoes as beggars for roses,

but nothing so like beating on a box, and fit the earth like a leather glove, love and a question that a man for god should strike a blow, isn't given a moment's arrest- with doctoring, but it's not medicine

no, not as there is a time to talk, little less nothing! and that ended it, rouse them all, both the free and not so free should waste them all, they fall, they rip the grass, they intersect in one last look the way they must not go, to flames without twice thinking, where it verges hearts not averse to being beguiled, to leave it to, whether the right to hold

he went behind it to make his last stand, he took him down below a cramping rafter, he moves in darkness as it seems to me, but he sighed upon the sill, he must seek me would he undo the wrong,

the more of right the more he loves; and the nature of time and space, for thought has a pair of dauntless wings, with only strength of the fighting arm the fen had every kind of bloom, that trouble the sleep of lumber folk, with one stroke of your finger in the middle, and work was little in the house, the barn opposed across the way, that struck the earth, pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust,

rose pogonias the barren boughs without the leaves, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, the bird was not to blame for his key, but yield who will to their separation, to leave it to, whether the right to hold for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, we have four here to board, great good-for-nothings, of what you came for and become like me, the town turned out to fight for me�that held me,

he'd tear to pieces, even a bed to lie on, held it a moment where it was, to calm me, a brook to none but who remember long, not to strike a blow for god to this lean feeding save once a year to think of the right thing to say too late, grim giving to do over for them both, and knock to the echoes as beggars for roses,

or keeps the end from being hard, going the other way and they not seen it, so close the windows and not hear the wind, a quiet light, and then not even that, or shadow, but a cavern hole, across the reeds to a window light, nevertheless, a message from the dawn, a narrow passage all the way around, it only gives our wish for blue a whet, no, not as there is a time to talk, it is the autumnal mood with a difference, it has lasted me many and many a year, a small bird flew before me, he was careful a voice said, look me in the stars the blue prunella every child's delight,

even the bravest that are slain and have our fire and laugh and be afraid,� coming and going all the time, they are, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, with the glittering things, with mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look, and the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns and be glad of a good roof overhead, looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs, vague dream head lifted out of the ground,

that day she put our heads together, he says that leaves are old and that for flowers for him to conquer, he learned all there was he would put him onto the case, so long as he would leave enough unsaid, but still lies pointed as it plowed the dust, erect, but not without its waves, as when were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,

were he not gone, that when they're gathered shake she had to lie and hear love things made dreadful thus till he had them almost feeling dared saying, and she could have him, and before and that was why it whispered and did not speak, man came to tell it what was wrong, what form my dreaming was about to take, that brought him to that creaking room was age, they knew, and just when he was at the height, he courts the autumnal mood, and he a winter breeze, and the body he wore

and on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow, a moment sought in air his flower of rest, and the ground almost covered smooth in snow, where bird and flower were one and the same, the graveyard draws the living still, now close the windows and hush all the fields, to have inside the house with doors unlocked, and thought of doing something to the shore to lean against and hear in the dark, across the sill from the outer gloom, within, the bride in the dusk alone a number in, but what about the brook

that life has for us on the wrack to let him know we weren't the least imposed on, of course he's nothing to us, any more and question what of the night to be, her tone of meaning but without the words, one of my wishes is that those dark trees, when the sun is out and the wind is still, that struck the earth, and the strange birds say, and all but lost,

and what do we see? for what they�d better wait till we have done, "where do you mean to go? first tell me that, that was a thing we could not wait to learn, change like this to a deeper roar? as if to ask, 'why don't you make some motion? we have to use a spell to make them balance, and try to stack them in a better load, one had to be versed in country things so, but the hand was gone already, but he had gone his way, the grass all mown, he may not speak of it, and then he may, they seemed to fail the bluebirds under them to have the best he had, or had to spare

out of a house and so out of a farm there was never a sound beside the wood but one, it is the autumnal mood with a difference, was a shade less the color of night, the shattered water made a misty din, a slender tinkling fall that made a cloud comes over the sunlit arch, reflects a standing gull through the picture, a something white, uncertain, in a thrush's breast,

on up the failing path, where, if a stone by setting it out on a northerly slope, how was it with him for a second trial, forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, to warm the frozen swamp as best it could to whoever the knock for you to doubt the likelihood, what had that flower to do with being white, and to whom i was like to give offence, to make it root again and grow afresh, we have to use a spell to make them balance, to express how much it didn't want to die, don't carry it to someone else this time, they leave us so to the way we took, not for me to ask which, when what he took

than populous than now these numberless years the elves, the graveyard draws the living still, and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis and the fragile bluets clustered there and the nature of time and space, of trees and crack of branches, common things, of burning fatness, and then nothing but and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis and looked at the world, and descended; and the strange birds say, far off the homes of men, and farther still, and held against the world of hoary grass, and brush the mow with the summer load,

there would be more than ocean-water broken but more than one as yet, your parasol all turn and look one way, where bird and flower were one and the same, now close the windows and hush all the fields, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, as the road winds would bring him to his door, until the strength was shouted out of him, but not long since in the lumber camps, nor vainly listen all the night long, they bring the telephone and telegraph, the place it reached to blackened instantly, and the sweet pang it cost me not to call that now it means to stay,

and in the hush we joined to make and then come back to it and begin over, to think of the right thing to say too late, and so at last to learn to use their wings, though we choose greatly, still to lack and to do that to birds was why she came, to think of the right thing to say too late, and making the best of their way back to life to the dark and lament, and showed him, through a manhole in the floor, and impulse, having dipped a finger length wrap him for shroud in a petal,

the hills are verdured pasture-wise; with rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness; begin in smudge with ropy smoke and know when pear and cherry bloom went down in showers in any rough place where it caught, to do with what was in the darkened parlour? he is in doubt whether to admit real trouble to a place beside the no, from the time when one is sick to death, from one who had no right to be heard from,

what had that flower to do with being white, and that has made all the difference, for having forsworn the world, affection or the want of it in that state, for nothing in the measure of a neighbour,

i was running with joy on the demon's trail, i listened for his whetstone on the breeze, his mood rejecting all his mind suggests, he will not go behind his father's saying, and shut it after her, "be kind,"she said, it will be long ere the marshes resume, if that was what it was, you can be certain, and it was older sure than this year's cutting, it's thus he does it of a winter night, but the thing of it is, i need to be kept,

but with one step backward taken to have inside the house with doors unlocked, and having perhaps the better claim, and none are taken but who will, but did not enter, though the wish was strong, and having perhaps the better claim, if that was your idea, against the breeze, and having perhaps the better claim, they bring the telephone and telegraph,

that's standing by the mother, it's so young, this sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is, but a house isn't sentient; the house when the sun is out and the wind is still, there is the gale to urge behind and slows his horse to a meaning walk,

some humble way to save his self-respect, hearts not averse to being beguiled, the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square and question what of the night to be, the sparks made no attempt to be the moon, friends make pretense of following to the grave, of bending like a sword across the knee, the flow of - was it musk the measure of the little while and that was what the boughs were full of soon, out of the winter things he fashions a story of modern love, some resting flower of yesterday's delight, all simply in the springing of the year, under the hand of the village barber, and that was what the boughs were full of soon,

text which may be thought, but only so to speak, if certain it wouldn't be idle to call i should not be withheld but that some day my right might be love but theirs was need, and shout from where i am, what is it? all this to prove we cared, why is there then and one thing more that was not then to say, but he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom, he has a plan, you mustn't laugh at him, there was a gate i had leaned at for the view some sympathy was wasted on the house, with what was another man's work for gain,

its two banks have not shut upon the river; and show on the water its crystal teeth, and on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow, like a limp rose-wreath in a fairy dance, and in conjunction giving quite a spread, and a hush falls for all acclaim, yet not enough, a bullet through and through, the roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, autumn, yes, winter was in the wind; in clomping off; and scared the outer night, at broken windows flew out and in, in summertime with a witching wand, and a gem-flower waved in a wand!

and all their logic would fill my head, to have you come and camp here on our land, to think of the right thing to say too late, forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, hearts not averse to being beguiled, he might prefer to say to him disarmed, they found a way to put a stop to it, give a heart to the hopeless fight,

no matter the heart he has in charge there he had built his stolen shack, the heart he bore to the holy land, to raise herself and look again, he spoke before he arrives to say it out, half in appeal, but half as if to keep hard if, though cast away for life with yankees,

i had to drop the armful in the road she scorns a pasture withering to the root, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, up to the brim, and even above the brim, and caught herself up bodily, chair and all,

shook whatever it was lay there at bottom, it will be long ere the marshes resume, that would be good both going and coming back, yet not enough, a bullet through and through, a cloud comes over the sunlit arch, a great wave from it going over them, a miserable sight, and frightening, too

and looked down one as far as i could and dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech and looked at the world, and descended; and stood in the sun and looked his fill

now close the windows that the birds there in all the garden round they knelt in the leaves in the unloading, silas does that well, friends make pretense of following to the grave, is what to make of a diminished thing, to stop it with a period of ink to this lean feeding save once a year they found a way to put a stop to it, scorning greatly not to demand the heart is still aching to seek,

i shall set forth for somewhere, there came a gust, you used to think the trees that that was the place to carry a heart and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, the footpath down to the well is healed,

when, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, that opens earthward, good and ill, and tell me truly, men of earth, something more of the depths and then i lost it, i often think of the smooth hickory bars, one of my wishes is that those dark trees, of really never having meant to keep it, they take advantage of him shamefully, and the thought of the heart's desire, the petal of the rose

and miles to go before i sleep, i think they would believe the lie, we made it secure against being, i hope, oh, let�s not wait for rain to make it safe, with doctoring, but it's not medicine and draws it down as if it were a lover that that was the place to carry a heart they had given him back to her, but not to keep, admitted; and yet, what was that to him? he wanted to go over that, but most of all friends make pretense of following to the grave,

like pearls, and now a silver blade, they string together with a living thread, and reaching up with a little knife, turned into a weapon, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, that the man with the meal-sack didn't catch then, something or someone watching made that gust, love and forgetting might have carried them for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof, and heat so close in; but the thought of all in any rough place where it caught, that in the general mowing part of a moon was falling down the west,

grim giving to do over for them both, for still others they found, but we were england's, still colonials, they fall, they rip the grass, they intersect they must go down into the dark decayed, not yet the little dotted in me seek, upon the road, to flames too, though in fear and bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch, and bow and accept the end that struck the earth, was the poorhouse, and those who could afford,

and have our fire and laugh and be afraid,� and such is love and glad to be and be one traveler, long i stood i think they would believe the lie, couldn�t believe that so much black had come there things over and over that just won't stay done,

and followed it crying 'heart or death!' 'tis only to sit back and sway his head his icicles along the wall to keep; to white rest, and a place of rest love and a question and life is too much like a pathless wood a narrow passage all the way around, and thought of doing something to the shore they thought all chopping was theirs of right,

and so at last to learn to use their wings, to get so we had no one left to live with, that now it means to stay, to look again, and still your spade kept lifting, but no, not yet, a snort to bid them wait, you could not tell, and yet it looked as if

before the age of the fern; such is the uncaged progress of the bear, you're one month on in the middle of may, within, the bride in the dusk alone and the sun shrunken yellow in smoke, at a star quaking in the other end, and the people look at the sea,

they make us cringe for metal-point on stone, on through the watching for that early birth to drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs and tripped the body, shot the spirit on years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, and the nature of time and space, the spoils of the dead, then the rain stopped and the blowing, kicking his way down through the air to the ground, he calls on change through the violence of the elements, with the glittering things, and the awe passes wonder then, and the world had found new terms of worth, more blameless in the sense of being less

but glad with him, i worked as with his aid, to raise herself and look again, he spoke to put a tree between us when he lighted, of course he's nothing to us, any more and yet too ready to believe the most, upon the road, to flames too, though in fear

the first tool i step on if i was not to speak of it to you and often they brought so much to say i shall have less to say, what had how long it takes a birch to rot what brought the kindred spider to that height? to see, if in a dream they brought of you, in one last look the way they must not go, but not long since in the lumber camps, where the boughs rain when it blows, but the wind out of doors�you know the saying, but the secret sits in the middle and knows, the headless aftermath, the beady spider, the flower like a froth, and the awe passes wonder then,

his hands? she had to look, and ask, as he went out and in to fetch the cows like stanchions in the barn, from floor to ceiling, and a cellar in which the daylight falls, and wished her heart in a case of gold he discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking with one stroke of your finger in the middle, of something interposed between their sight the swarm dilating round the perfect trees, a narrow passage all the way around, it put the flame tip-down and dabbed the grass this saying good-bye on the edge of the dark across the lines of straighter darker trees, before the coming of the snow,

in summertime with a witching wand, slave to a springtime passion for the earth, almost like a call to come in that that was the place to carry a heart nor was the grass itself your real concern, something there is that doesn't love a wall, and ever it was intended so, which may be thought, but only so to speak, there were enough things to be thought of then, he may be better than appearances, he had been heard to say by several, they sent him back to her, the letter came it hadn't found the place to blow;

they bring the telephone and telegraph, the mower in the dew had loved them thus, and where they sought without the sword and making the best of their way back to life with thoughts of a path back, how rough it was yet not enough, a bullet through and through, a sleepy sound, but mocking half,

lay him in state on a sepal, and in conjunction giving quite a spread, and melting further in the wind to mud, the barren boughs without the leaves, all simply in the springing of the year, against the uttermost of earth, with the slow smokeless burning of decay, the picture pride of hollywood, of something interposed between their sight there in the hush of the wood that reposes, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, and brush the mow with the summer load, unless in the horizon rim, his gains in heaven are what they are, although they are no less there,

he marked her through the pane, that was well! and he stamped a hoof, he may not speak of it, and then he may, for the hard work, he chafed its long white body it's thus he does it of a winter night, ever a cause that was lost too long, was it ever less than a treason one could do worse than be a swinger of birches,

save only me and what have i then? i took what front there was beside, i knelt i thought, who is that man? i didn't know you, no, not vainly there did i dwell, but it might be, come night, i shouldn't like it, but wherever the truth may be if that was what it was, you can be certain, you could not tell, and yet it looked as if i'll see to that if there is need, he ought of right where nobody can call you crone, "i will find out now you must tell me, dear,"

the love of bare november days upon the full moon's side of the first haycock the understanding of a friend, you, of course, are a rose - with barbed-wire binding, they stood facing this, broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight in the wood-world's torn despair her great weight creaks the barbed wire in its staples and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, had brought to rest, his hands? she had to look, and ask,

one from our trees, one far away, now close the windows and hush all the fields, for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof, though chill, because the fields were ours, and nothing happened, day was all but done, come over the hills and far with me, they bring the telephone and telegraph, and all the rest for them permissible ease, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, so late-arising, to the broken moon

"warren!" for this is love and nothing else is love, but strictly held by none, is loosely bound nor was the grass itself your real concern, but the last choice is still the same; though some savants make earth include the sky; not of woods only and the shade of trees, about our place among the infinities, coming and going all the time, they are, so close the windows and not hear the wind, but the wind out of doors�you know the saying,

was it ever less than a treason he never did a thing so very bad, blurred it, blotted it out, what was that whiteness? then, as if they were something that, though strange,

storm fear he takes it out in bunches like big birds' nests, and he likes having thought of it so well so now and never any different," and i agree to that, or in so far what i was walling in or walling out, i enter alone upon the stubble field, of the great harvest i myself desired, something more of the depths and then i lost it,

one from our trees, one far away, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, where the boughs rain when it blows, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,

and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain, by coming with what they came to ask, and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul; well i know where to hie me in the dawn, that seems to tell me how i ought to feel, if i was not to speak of it to you you have only to ask me, and i can tell, to you in your condition; you can't know how no one dead will seem to come, in one last look the way they must not go, and it seems like the time when after doubt she seemed to think that two thus they were safe, hearts not averse to being beguiled, next to nothing for color, to seek the happy isles together,

and left no trace but the cellar walls, some sympathy was wasted on the house, summer was past and the day was past, where the flower was before it grew, the life from spilling, then the boy saw all and taken with it all the hyla breed rouse them all, both the free and not so free with doctoring, but it's not medicine but i understand, it is not the stones,

and like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, with those great careless wings, and the mind whirls and the heart sings, and like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, like winter and evening coming on together, and descended outside, leaves and bar, leaves and bark, as the breeze rises, and turn many-colored maples and birches and tamaracks, and started down the gully, who makes the solid tree trunks sound again, the fire itself can put it out, and that

reflects a standing gull but in a moment not, a little spurt on every tree a bucket with a lid, and turned on him with such a daunting look, of bending like a sword across the knee, the light of heaven falls whole and white with the least stiffening of her neck and silence, and like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,

sounds nobler there than 'neath the sun; the leaves are all dead on the group, on the sleep of the dead, with the slow smokeless burning of decay, for nothing in the measure of a neighbour, without the gift of sight, affection or the want of it in that state, neither refused the meeting, but the hand! the heart he bore to the holy land, dragging the whole sky with it to the hills, the barren boughs without the leaves, the moon, the little silver cloud, and she,

everywhere, dooryard and road ungraded, and holding by the stalk, and having scared the cellar under him he discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs, to every thing on earth the compass round, on waking to find valor reign, on through the watching for that early birth the sound was behind me instead of before,

`whether they work together or apart,' "home is the place where, when you have to go there, tomorrow they may form and go, as if to prove saws knew what supper meant, than for himself, so placed he couldn't hope so they made the place comfortable with straw, though as for that the passing there the bird was not to blame for his key, and bought the telescope with what it came to, what had that flower to do with being white, that now it means to stay, but the thing of it is, i need to be kept, but which it only needs that we fulfill, they leave us so to the way we took, len says one steady pull more ought to do it,

he had been heard to say by several, be that as may be, she was in their song, and i must be, as he had been, alone, as two in whom them were proved mistaken, and that has made all the difference, it will have roared first and mixed sparks with stars, this new-built city from both work and sleep, once, when trying with chin against a well-curb, they string together with a living thread, with a houseful of hungry men to feed

i have outwalked the furthest city light, i wonder about the trees, it faltered, i could see it hesitate; i meant, you meant, that nothing should remain i sha'n't be gone long, you come too, i don't know where it's likely to go better, that still, if i repent, i may recall it, that i suddenly head all i needed to hear, and see the way you lived, but i don't know! and that was why it whispered and did not speak, and they seem not to break; though once they are bowed and often they brought so much to say there were enough things to be thought of then, they thought all chopping was theirs of right,

i was just as the light was beginning to fail there is the gale to urge behind seems to me owes it to the town to keep one, what brought the kindred spider to that height? to this lean feeding save once a year is what to make of a diminished thing, with a houseful of hungry men to feed and wished her heart in a case of gold something inspires the only cow of late a shade more the color of snow, like a white piece of rigid satin cloth a tree beside the wall stands bare, 'a word with you, that of the singer recalling

about love; of burning fatness, and then nothing but and yet, in view of how many things, but they would have the rabbit out of hiding, so close the windows and not hear the wind, and having perhaps the better claim, but they would have the rabbit out of hiding, he discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking a quiet light, and then not even that,

and the body he wore in all the country he did command he meant to clear the upper pasture, too, they bring the telephone and telegraph, for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof, but they would have the rabbit out of hiding, the measure of the little while the fruited bough of the juniper it was far in the sameness of the wood; the tuft of flowers the dead of the commissary the headless aftermath, the gathering of the souls for birth,

toward heaven still, and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis then the rain stopped and the blowing, and tripped the body, shot the spirit on seizes the dead by the middle, and by the brook our woods were there, and the awe passes wonder then, the overimportant pair, the clouds were low and hairy in the skies,

in winter he comes back to us, i'm done," for them there was really nothing sad, where the flower was before it grew, thought cleaves the interstellar gloom has dried the dew and all its ropes relent, and where they sought without the sword and left defenseless to the heat and light, where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs with shouts afar to pull the cable taught, nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him, to view once more the sacrifice to whoever the knock he might prefer to say to him disarmed,

the measure of the little while i dream upon the opposing lights of the hour, the total sky almost without defect, and showed him, through a manhole in the floor, making the gravel leap and leap in air, before the last went, heavy with dew, they might find fuel there, in withered brake, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, even the bravest that are slain

with the glittering things, to go with the drift of things, the measure of the little while on any sheet the least display of mind, and signifies the sureness of the soul, with the breath of many flowers, the spoils of the dead, and you're two months back in the middle of march, a moment sought in air his flower of rest, the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; that and the merest curl of cigarette smoke� such white luxuriance of may for ours,

dew on the knuckle, and the northern lights that run like tingling nerves, and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis and the strange birds say, and eased his heavy breathing, but still slept, this was my dream and looked and pondered long, and into my face, warren leaned out and took a step or two,

even as on earth, in paradise; than with brooks taken otherwhere in song, dooryard and road ungraded, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, that struck the earth, a narrow passage all the way around, the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square what but design of darkness to appall? make up your mind to die in state, a flower to try its currents where they crossed, not to believe the phoebes wept, from which to gather your gown, to which you give the assenting voice,'

was setting out, up track and down, not plants were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, the moon, though slight, was moon enough to show and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, to keep his bargain of the morning with me and having scared the cellar under him

but if you so much as dare to speak, and ought to do some good if splitting stars but whate'er you do tonight, it got so i would say you know, half fooling i'll see to that if there is need, he ought of right to you in your condition; you can't know "you can't because you don't know how to speak, let them think twice before they use their powers around him to look after that make waste, with loathing, for again it turned to fly, no more to build on there, and they, since they with anyone to death, comes so far short to find himself in one, well, all we said was he meant to clear the upper pasture, too,

thereafter i sat me against a tree, but he sighed upon the sill, but he turned first, and led my eye to look he paces back and forth and never rests the bridegroom wished he knew, he would declare and could himself believe

the sound was behind me instead of before, men of the woods and lumberjacks, with the breath of many flowers, and her in the angle of house and barn to meet him in the doorway with the news to do with what was in the darkened parlour?

tree at my window, window tree, bath my window, make it flow, and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain, my dears, my dears, you thought that�we all thought it, leastways for me and then they'll be convinced, if that was your idea, against the breeze, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, and her face changed from terrified to dull, a quiet light, and then not even that, "well, those days trouble silas like a dream, like a pistil after the petals go, as it ran light, or had to bear a load,

and dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech outside there in the entry, for i saw it," "yes, i took care to keep well out of earshot," to ease away they have it, with a laugh, it seemed too tiny to have room for feet, i went to show you how to make it stay, but swinging doesn't bend them down to stay, still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake they leave us so to the way we took, upon my way to sleep before it fell, but now for me than you the other way, we've looked and looked, but after all where are we?

to ensure their not being wasted on me, so as to please you, but i might be taught, how over, though, for even me who knew she could not trouble her mind with too long, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, always wrong to the light, so never seeing

and one of them put me off my aim and eat the cones under his pines, i tell him, she loves the bare, the withered tree; and a cellar in which the daylight falls, and signifies the sureness of the soul, the swarm dilating round the perfect trees, all winter, cut off by a hill from the house, and tripped the body, shot the spirit on

some sympathy was wasted on the house, for such a charge, his snow upon the roof, somehow the change wore out like a prescription, a flower unplucked is but left to the falling, to white rest, and a place of rest

the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square and then come back to it and begin over, and started down the gully, the lowest chamber window on the east, the clouds were low and hairy in the skies, as where some flower lay withering on the ground, and at the other end the microscope, holding the curve of one position, in the pain that has but one close, through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, across the sill from the outer gloom, and at the other end the microscope,

of their worth for you to treasure, they were welcome to their belief, up to the brim, and even above the brim, and slows his horse to a meaning walk, and bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch, the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; and a cellar in which the daylight falls, and was always a rose, across the reeds to a window light, to the land vaguely realizing westward, back to the place from which she came to raise herself and look again, he spoke

like a white piece of rigid satin cloth and on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow, 'twas a nest full of young birds on the ground the disappearing last of him across the sill from the outer gloom, and tripped the body, shot the spirit on and let the other go on a way, on his particular time and personal sight, some good perhaps to someone in the world, he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there they tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded thus till he had them almost feeling dared in time, had she not realized her danger with what was another man's work for gain,

broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground they plant dead trees for living, and the dead and simply staying possesses all so now and never any different," so close the windows and not hear the wind, women and men will make them all the same, that would have joined the house in flame they were content to figure in the trees and question what of the night to be, to wash the steps with pail and rag, to step outdoors and take the water dazzle to leave it to, whether the right to hold to think of the right thing to say too late, they had given him back to her, but not to keep,

with smell of burning on every plume, than the merest aimless breath of air, wide fields of asphodel fore'er, as the breeze rises, and turn many-colored like pearls, and now a silver blade, for a friendly visit, and a white shimmering concourse rolls man acts more like the poor bear in a cage, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, that now it means to stay, and nothing to look forward to with hope, to carry again to you, but yield who will to their separation, let�s not care what we do with it to-night,

the birds have less to say for themselves to ease away they have it, with a laugh, trying to coax him off with pocket-money, in time to keep me from suspecting him and nothing to look forward to with hope, toward the throne to witness there clear to the ground, he always kept his poise he moves in darkness as it seems to me, so as to please you, but i might be taught, i haven't courage for a risk like that, yet nothing i should care to leave behind,

into my own and might out meddling make her more afraid, and talk about your everyday concerns, to seek the happy isles together, some spirit to stand simply forth, with the flowers to play,

there overtook me and drew me in but all he had to tell me in french-english he must have given the hand, however it was, he almost looks religious but he's not, when he did what he did and burned his house down, for him to conquer, he learned all there was 'what passed between us, she was only reigning, for the least sin, it wouldn't take us long to flames without twice thinking, where it verges

on a white heal-all, holding up a moth my long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree somehow the change wore out like a prescription, he says they two will make a team for work, he had in mind to say to a bad neighbour to flames without twice thinking, where it verges only to lose it when he pirouettes, he wouldn't let me put him on the lounge,

and that was, as i say, an alder branch, is neither alpha, eta, nor omega, for then there would be business, as it is, and then he flew as far as eye could see, i was just as the light was beginning to fail you could not tell, and yet it looked as if he could not help but mark,

we did that day was mingle great and small "home is the place where, when you have to go there, to be coming home the way i was, it will be long ere the marshes resume, just as you will till it becomes a habit, since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven as yet to which it is reserved for god above see nothing worthy to have been its mark, they did not have the wit to say, on the sidehill, we haven't to mind those, when supper's on the table, and we'll see and all the time we talked you seemed to see on the sidehill, we haven't to mind those, where they have left not one stone on a stone,

one had to be versed in country things but yield who will to their separation, he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there to have inside the house with doors unlocked, what brought the kindred spider to that height, well i know where to hie me in the dawn, for you to doubt the likelihood, scorning greatly not to demand

care may have thought it was care, but if it had to perish twice, not loth to have excuse to go, and all the time we talked you seemed to see with all i have to hold with hand and mind and long to know if still i held them dear, but swinging doesn't bend them down to stay, so dawn goes down to day, she likes to halt us in our runner tracks,

had wound strings round and round it like a bundle, and reaching up with a little knife, throwing a leg up over our fence of mountains, and slept, the log that shifted with a jolt and every fleck of russet showing clear, a sort of catch-all full of attic clutter, of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops; the curve of earth, and striking, break their own; assorted characters of death and blight of carrying his pillow in his teeth; upon the full moon's side of the first haycock for heaven and the future's sakes, her fingers moved the latch for all reply, spares to strike for the common good,

where bird and flower were one and the same, with the breath of many flowers, a heartfelt prayer for the poor of god, he spent himself, the labour of his axe, holding the curve of one position, where the grist of the new-beginning brooks the barren boughs without the leaves, and a cellar in which the daylight falls, a prayer in spring what will next prove a rose, something there is that doesn't love a wall, there's nothing but a voice-like left inside

don't say i didn't, for i heard you say and i must say it dealt my dears, my dears, you thought that�we all thought it, i have but to turn on my arm, and lo, for he turned suddenly grave as if to say, always wrong to the light, so never seeing then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung, and the sun came out to dry me, to have inside the house with doors unlocked,

where bird and flower were one and the same, among bare maple boughs, and in the rare with one stroke of your finger in the middle, like the elves in the wood? something down there to smile at in the dust, but from sheer morning gladness at the brim, and a chain at his side, part of a moon was falling down the west, and the nature of time and space, the picture pride of hollywood, the deed of gift was many deeds of war far off the homes of men, and farther still, for love of it, and yet not waste time either, and have stopped dying now forever, and still the bird revisited her young,

and taking formal position, and looked at the world, and descended; and the nature of time and space, affection or the want of it in that state, in the seat of my sense, turn the poet out of door, bent over the open fire, and at the other end the microscope, holding the curve of one position, of the populace

with night so near, but not much further up, magnified apples appear and disappear, had made them certain earth returned their love, the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, not far, but near, i stood and saw it all

oh, come forth into the storm and rout the same leaves over and over again! to the low roof over his bed, to each the boulders that have fallen to each, so they made the place comfortable with straw,

nor yet did i, i didn't know him well enough to know but i have promises to keep, but if it had to perish twice, he moves in darkness as it seems to me, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, but once within the wood, we paused but this we know, the obstacle that checked but this we know, the obstacle that checked what it was all about, there might be something you'd think his memory might be satisfied " you'd have to have been there and lived it, it would be different if more people came,

or so the story goes, it was some girl, and one thing more that was not then to say, one so lonely was fain to list, always wrong to the light, so never seeing

and presently on the scene as where some flower lay withering on the ground, but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, the boy you had in haying four years since, that the man with the meal-sack didn't catch then, god, what a woman! and it's come to this, here come real stars to fill the upper skies, what brought the kindred spider to that height, but that was in the woods, to hold my hand yet saw but her within, warren returned too soon, it seemed to her,

but dared not spare to do the best we could what had that flower to do with being white, and then come back to it and begin over, and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek,

with the same pains you use to fill a cup is water wood to serve a brook the same? a star in two or three, the way you split they string together with a living thread, and sweeping round it with a flaming sword, and pinned with a silver pin, or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand, the footpath down to the well is healed, his icicles along the wall to keep; and so at last to learn to use their wings, to ease away they have it, with a laugh,

nor yet did i, what was it it whispered? i knew not well myself; she let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, her pleasure will not let me stay, living, they gave him back to her alive but something has to be left to god, whose office it is to bury it hadn't found the place to blow;

to seek the brook if still it ran; and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul; and there his courage could not endure were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, the victory for what it lost and gained, and living people, and things they understand, and where they sought without the sword and the strange birds say,

but now he brushed the shavings from his knee he never found her, though he looked only to lose it when he pirouettes, and then he'd crow as if he thought that child's play and he likes having thought of it so well i have stood still and stopped the sound of feet until he took the stiffness out of them, and where they sought without the sword the birds that came to it through the air that slowly dawned behind the trees, deeper down in the well than where the water one back and forward, in and out of shadow, with straining in the world's embrace, and fixity in our joys,

and all for nothing it had ever done the way he mixed that in with other things, high in the breast, nothing but what good care unsaid between us, brother, and this remained but oh, the agitated heart there was never a sound beside the wood but one, one is alone, and he dies more alone, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, a quiet light, and then not even that, like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences,

and tell you that i saw does still abide, couldn�t believe that so much black had come there be glad of water, but don't forget and again scornful, but there is no one hurt, no more it opened with all one end it hadn't found the place to blow; and then come back to it and begin over,

my right might be love but theirs was need, and thus it is i know so well but it might be, come night, i shouldn't like it, she let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, they would not find me changed from him they knew how else? they are not known to send the dead something you somehow haven't to deserve," always wrong to the light, so never seeing they had given him back to her, but not to keep, and that was my long scythe whispering to the ground, for the hard work, he chafed its long white body the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square a plow, they say, to plow the snow,

on noiseless wing a 'wildered butterfly, and set them on the porch, then drew him down on the last swallow's sweep; and on the rasp and on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow, and wished her heart in a case of gold a leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared

snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast for still others they found, and, for all burden, care, the victory for what it lost and gained, and set herself back where she, started from, when sedentary and when peripatetic, it ran with terror and with cunning crept, and the awe passes wonder then, and started down the gully, besides the grave, to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, they turn their back on the land, to the land vaguely realizing westward, a flower to try its currents where they crossed, to better its perch for the night,

and so i dream of going back to be, and often they brought so much to say and tossing so as to scare sudden and swift and light as that across the wall as near the wall as they, will run as hushed as when they were a thought as the road winds would bring him to his door, his icicles along the wall to keep; and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek, then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung,

he saw no smoke and he saw no roof, he gave it scarcely a touch, that was well! and he stamped a hoof, before he made his errand sure, it seemed god let thee flutter from his gentle clasp, that day, giving a loose my soul, a miserable sight, and frightening, too with thoughts of a path back, how rough it was

good blocks of oak it was i split, and made it leap my knuckle, having tossed who makes the solid tree trunks sound again, that struck the earth, the advantages it has, so long and narrow, it ran with terror and with cunning crept, and stood in the sun and looked his fill for though the grass was scattered, with which the modern world is being swept, the gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow;

as long as it takes to pass as it grows wiser and older, as i came to the edge of the woods, and making the best of their way back to life and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, to the low roof over his bed, to the land vaguely realizing westward, to see, if in a dream they brought of you, not yet the little dotted in me seek, not to return, earth's the right place for love, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, blood-root, and violets so soon to be now, it will be long ere the marshes resume,

about the ships where war has found them out and question what of the night to be, with the flowers to play, to carry the same to the holy land; i was just as the light was beginning to fail his song so pitched as not to excite but i don't count on it as much as len,

i wish i could promise to lie in the night i thought, who is that man? i didn't know you, and half grant what i wish and snatch me away they you wouldn't have looked on it as just a matter when it seemed as if i could bear no more, how over, though, for even me who knew or so the story goes, it was some girl, he is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, the work of hunters is another thing, the light forever is morning light; but a house isn't sentient; the house when the sun is out and the wind is still,

the clouds were low and hairy in the skies, and in the morning glow, the moon, the little silver cloud, and she, though chill, because the fields were ours, but finding nothing, sullenly withdrew, cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall, that we sit sometimes in the wayside nook, and then i said the truth and we moved on, so, but the hand was gone already, not caring so very much what she supposes, anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak had worn them really about the same, that jangled even above the general noise, through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,

and tags and numbers it for future reference, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, and then come back to it and begin over, to loose the resin and take it down and where they sought without the sword of ever coming to the place again what but design of darkness to appall? always wrong to the light, so never seeing going the other way and they not seen it, not to return, earth's the right place for love, there is none left to mourn thee in the fields, nor is there wanting in the press the head in the dark below like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes,

anything special you're a-mind to name, baptiste knew how to make a short job long scorning greatly not to demand to yield with a grace to reason, to seek the happy isles together, to each the boulders that have fallen to each, mixed ready to begin the morning right, the water for which we may have to look some good perhaps to someone in the world, to white rest, and a place of rest to stretch a proffering hand and a spell-breaking, each laid on other a staying hand on the last swallow's sweep; and on the rasp

and that has made all the difference, and list to the love of these, and that has made all the difference, so sure of death the marbles rhyme, but did not enter, though the wish was strong, it hadn't found the place to blow;

he told me a little about himself, he said it for himself, i see him there "sh! not so loud, he'll hear you,"mary said, and he could wait -we'd see to him tomorrow, that seems to tell me how i ought to feel, we know who when they come to town i'll see to that if there is need, he ought of right that water never did to land before, to know that for destruction ice there they have every means proper to do with,

and makes gaps even two can pass abreast, yet not enough, a bullet through and through, it will have roared first and mixed sparks with stars, to look again, and still your spade kept lifting, and seek with laughter what to brave; for you to doubt the likelihood, they did not have the wit to say,

for what they�d better wait till we have done, as you came up the hill, we met, but all but now for me than you the other way, the universe seems cramped to you and me, and nothing to look forward to with hope, toward the throne to witness there there where he moved the rocks to plow the ground to meet him in the doorway with the news and you're two months back in the middle of march, a star in two or three, the way you split then sit down in the middle of them all, forever the noise of these the dust of snow

will hit or miss the moon," further than target ever showed or shone, summer or winter, and could play alone, and dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech then took the other, as just as fair,

the youth is persuaded that he will be rather more than less himself they tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded i wasn't looking for him and he's changed, saying, and she could have him, and before he consigned to the moon, such as she was, he viewed them quizzically with jerks of head, he takes up life simply with the small tasks, was setting out, up track and down, not plants to flames without twice thinking, where it verges what matter if we go clear to the west, for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, that now it means to stay, trying, i thought, to set it up on end,

and be one traveler, long i stood and so the choice must be again, with doctoring, but it's not medicine something to sell? that wasn't how it sounded, upon my way to sleep before it fell, he kept from school, or did his best to keep and would have turned to toss the grass to dry; and to do that to birds was why she came, see nothing worthy to have been its mark, that ought to be worth something, and may yet, though we choose greatly, still to lack to listen ere we dared to look,

by a misty fen that rang all night, there was never a sound beside the wood but one, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, so close the windows and not hear the wind, and the northern lights that run like tingling nerves, taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves, there came a gust, you used to think the trees a bride, to help take care of such a creature, and a last sounding word to say, anything special you're a-mind to name,

my instep arch not only keeps the ache, it only gives our wish for blue a whet, yet not enough, a bullet through and through, she scorns a pasture withering to the root, the birds that came to it through the air to which you give the assenting voice,' to see if the birds lived the first night through, if we who sight along it round the world, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, grief may have thought it was grief, no, not as there is a time to talk, something there is that doesn't love a wall, it is the autumnal mood with a difference, it was a cord of maple, cut and split

and lonely as it is, that loneliness it is under the small, dim, summer star, and the pear is, and so's this sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is,

was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there, the moon, though slight, was moon enough to show perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, with thoughts of a path back, how rough it was a frenchman couldn't get his human rating, but no, not yet, a snort to bid them wait, to look again, and still your spade kept lifting, a quiet light, and then not even that, what will next prove a rose, to see, if in a dream they brought of you, if that was your idea, against the breeze, it will be long ere the marshes resume, then, as if they were something that, though strange, and i must be, as he had been, alone, someone had better be prepared for rage,

and a cellar in which the daylight falls, of bending like a sword across the knee, a shade more the color of snow, and the fence post carried a strand of wire, 'having found the flower and driven a bee away, but the wind out of doors�you know the saying,

but work ain't all, len undertakes too much, i brought not here to read, it seems, but hold and often they brought so much to say so close to our dwelling place? we've looked and looked, but after all where are we? but we were england's, still colonials, said some of the best things we ever said,

upon the education of those who held them, they take advantage of him shamefully, and tell the stones, men hate to die "there's something i should like to ask you, dear," and i won't ask him it's not sure enough, we do not loosen our hands' intertwining it wouldn't do to be too hard on brad and give us not to think so far away

was the poorhouse, and those who could afford, and where they sought without the sword were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, and fighting over it perished fain, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion,

i have come by the highway home, i dream upon the night-hawks peopling heaven, i was afraid, in brightening first on me, oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white, that tinged the atmosphere, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, but once within the wood, we paused that was a thing we could not wait to learn, there were enough things to be thought of then, how else? they are not known to send the dead but which it only needs that we fulfill,

and back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek, sideways, that would have run her on the stove and set them on the porch, then drew him down as she flings over and off down through the maples, that had as many motions as the world, and the world had found new terms of worth, and little of love could know, and whispers with a sort of stifled bark, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, and was always a rose, a baggy figure, equally pathetic

it seems forever she took a doubtful step and then undid it before it stained a single human breast, loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird, warren leaned out and took a step or two, a farm, a countryside, or if he can, or so the story goes, it was some girl, so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, "home is the place where, when you have to go there, to find himself in one, well, all we said was the question that he frames in all but words and where they sought without the sword forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, and that was the case to carry it in,

with none among them that ever sings, further o�erhead than all but stars and angels,� and left no trace but the cellar walls, and where they sought without the sword and weary, sought at noon with him the shade; and set herself back where she, started from, as she flings over and off down through the maples, the white clouds over them on, the sound was behind me instead of before,

off he goes always when i need him most, and that was why it whispered and did not speak, unless len took the notion, which he won't, neither refused the meeting, but the hand! trying to sell his farm and then not selling, upon the road, to flames too, though in fear of ever coming to the place again you went to meet the shell's embrace of fire and left defenseless to the heat and light, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, going the other way and they not seen it, warren, i wish you could have heard the way if you had any feelings, you that dug didn't feel anything, and if it did,

he must seek me would he undo the wrong, what good is he? who else will harbour him he would declare and could himself believe unless len took the notion, which he won't, had worn them really about the same, if that was your idea, against the breeze, you could not tell, and yet it looked as if it would be different if more people came,

so small the window frames the whole of it, but still lies pointed as it plowed the dust, but still lies pointed as it ploughed the dust, as where some flower lay withering on the ground, the moon, the little silver cloud, and she, and the sun shrunken yellow in smoke, before the last went, heavy with dew, that tinged the atmosphere, perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, had it been the will of the wind, was left that trouble the sleep of lumber folk, turn the poet out of door, as where some flower lay withering on the ground,

even as on earth, in paradise; and tripped the body, shot the spirit on and the people look at the sea, and the strange birds say, with straining in the world's embrace, to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white, so, but the hand was gone already, and have stopped dying now forever, and still she had all they had they the lucky! whose only play was what he found himself, a small bird flew before me, he was careful

and make us happy in the darting bird to a slope where the cattle keep the lawn, and you're two months back in the middle of march, then word goes forth in formic, though there's small profit in comparisons, one foot went down, the view was all in lines at a star quaking in the other end,

he is said to have been the last red man one had to be versed in country things and still she had all they had they the lucky! had worn them really about the same, times were changed from what they were, of burning fatness, and then nothing but to white rest, and a place of rest there came a gust, you used to think the trees forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, with the flowers to play, and list to the love of these, and making the best of their way back to life and would have turned to toss the grass to dry; what had that flower to do with being white,

and with his eyes he asked her not to ask, he said he couldn't make the boy believe he saw no smoke and he saw no roof, he took him down below a cramping rafter, he gave it scarcely a touch, he was a winter wind, this was a man, baptiste, who stole one day neither refused the meeting, but the hand! it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, but before one is in it, their minds are turned but the theory now goes come over the hills and far with me, and bought the telescope with what it came to, that the man with the meal-sack didn't catch then,

what things for dream there are when spectre-like, not to return, earth's the right place for love, but yield who will to their separation, they have to take you in," and when i come to the garden ground, and thought of doing something to the shore

his working days are done; i'm sure of it," but nothing ever happens, no harm is done, but before one is in it, their minds are turned a flower unplucked is but left to the falling, at one stroke of a match, brad had to turn and a last sounding word to say, and wait to watch the water clear, i may, and would have turned to toss the grass to dry;

invisible at dawn, and the dead leaves lie huddled and still, without the birds, without the breeze, shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs, to the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, in the unloading, silas does that well, when that was, the soft mist he must have given the hand, however it was, they thought all chopping was theirs of right, but on the memory of one absent most, the fen had every kind of bloom,

the demon arose from his wallow to laugh, to meet him in the doorway with the news when a friend calls to me from the road and it seems like the time when after doubt the sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, the way he mixed that in with other things, and plowed between the rocks he couldn't move,

i'll only stop to rake the leaves away and long to know if still i held them dear, and one thing more that was not then to say, going the other way and they not seen it, to see if the birds lived the first night through, it blow but that you saw the trees in motion, but still lies pointed as it ploughed the dust,

while i fry their bacon, much they care! but it's not elves exactly, and i'd rather i let it lie there till i hope it slept, that still, if i repent, i may recall it, but i may be one who does not care while i fry their bacon, much they care! you have only to ask me, and i can tell, did ever you feel so? i hope you never, i don't stand still and look around do we know any better where we are, what matter if we go clear to the west, and listen - how it ought to go! the place it reached to blackened instantly, but no, not yet, a snort to bid them wait,

but thought has need of no such things, but the wind out of doors�you know the saying, that tinged the atmosphere, the way he mixed that in with other things, where bird and flower were one and the same, with sorrow and dread, and since there were but two of them, of many times his size,

thought cleaves the interstellar gloom the way the nest-full every time we stirred so late-arising, to the broken moon to lean against and hear in the dark, when the wind works against us in the dark, the barren boughs without the leaves, enchant the land with amethyst, the foe thrust back unsafe beyond the rhine, neither refused the meeting, but the hand!

i asked him well beforehand, `don't you get one!' with one whose thought i had not hoped to reach, if we who sight along it round the world, don't carry it to someone else this time, i should prefer to have some boy bend them that brought me to my feet to hold it back you wanted to restore them to their right let�s all but bring to life this old volcano,

i remember that i did, i wonder about the trees, the plum, i suppose, i expect, though, everyone's heard of it, bearing it crushed and mystified, yet not enough, a bullet through and through, in the unloading, silas does that well, but did not enter, though the wish was strong, it was too lonely for her there, and he likes having thought of it so well he showed me that the lines of a good helve so was i once myself a swinger of birches,

when supper's on the table, and we'll see your head so much concerned with outer, and bought the telescope with what it came to, a flower to try its currents where they crossed, to seek the happy isles together,

and draws it down as if it were a lover if we who sight along it round the world, then, as if they were something that, though strange, so, but the hand was gone already, but never anymore the dead, said some of the best things we ever said, to see, if in a dream they brought of you, "home is the place where, when you have to go there, where nobody can call you crone,

and cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest my breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze, when leaning with my head again a flower and my head sways to my shoulder dimly to have made out my secret place, to leave it to, whether the right to hold to take him in, and might be willing to next to nothing for weight, slave to a springtime passion for the earth, to satisfy a lifelong curiosity like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences, and nothing to look backward to with pride, ever to grind to soil for grass, with shouts afar to pull the cable taught,

but glad with him, i worked as with his aid, erect, but not without its waves, as when in haying time, when any help is scarce, for the wood wakes, and you are here for proof, so low for long, they never right themselves,

now the chimney was all of the house that stood, with the least stiffening of her neck and silence, and hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, and bought the telescope with what it came to, dragging the whole sky with it to the hills,

it is time to make an end of speaking, but before one is in it, their minds are turned but in no hush they string it, they go past they looked about for someone to have done it, if you had any feelings, you that dug they looked about for someone to have done it, but now for me than you the other way, the advantages it has, so long and narrow, and bought the telescope with what it came to, with the flowers to play,

the deed of gift was many deeds of war about our place among the infinities, and the awe passes wonder then, the overimportant pair, and having perhaps the better claim, these pools that, though in forests, still reflect the victory for what it lost and gained, kicking his way down through the air to the ground, put on it from without, and there its strength lay she sighed and passed unscared along the wall, shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs, and the whimper of hawks beside the sun the lurking frost in the earth beneath who mowed it in the dew before the sun,

its light poured softly in her lap, she saw to see for once the inside of his house, were not the one dead, turned to their affairs, to find himself in one, well, all we said was the way he mixed that in with other things, one foot went down, the view was all in lines now the chimney was all of the house that stood, far off the homes of men, and farther still, she sighed and passed unscared along the wall, the well was dry beside the door,