Ho! green fields and running brooks!Knotted strings and fishing-hooksOf the truant, stealing downWeedy backways of the town. Where the sunshine overlooks,By green fields and running brooks,All intruding guests of chanceWith a golden tolerance, Cooing doves, or pensive pairOf picnickers, straying there–By green fields and running brooks,Sylvan shades and mossy nooks! And–O Dreamer of the Days,Murmurer […]

Lawzy! don’t I rickollectThat-‘air old swing in the lane!Right and proper, I expect,Old times can’t come back again;But I want to state, ef theyCould come back, and I could sayWhat my pick ‘ud be, i jing!I’d say, Gimme the old swing‘Nunder the old locus’-treesOn the old place, ef you please!–Danglin’ there with half-shet eye,Waitin’ fer […]

When Little Claude was naughty wunstAt dinner-time, an’ saidHe won’t say “Thank you” to his Ma,She maked him go to bedAn’ stay two hours an’ not git up,–So when the clock struck Two,Nen Claude says,–“Thank you, Mr. Clock,I’m much obleeged to you!”

Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer’s timeFilled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime! How the grand band-wagon shone with a splendor all its own,And glittered with a glory that our […]

The rhyme o’ The Raggedy Man’s ‘at’s bestIs Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs,–‘Cause that-un’s the strangest of all o’ the rest,An’ the worst to learn, an’ the last one guessed,An’ the funniest one, an’ the foolishest.–Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! I don’t know what in the world it means–Tickle me, Love, […]

We must get home–for we have been awaySo long it seems forever and a day!And O so very homesick we have grown,The laughter of the world is like a moanIn our tired hearing, and its songs as vain,–We must get home–we must get home again! We must get home: It hurts so, staying here,Where fond […]

No song is mine of Arab steed–My courser is of nobler blood,And cleaner limb and fleeter speed,And greater strength and hardihoodThan ever cantered wild and freeAcross the plains of Araby. Go search the level desert-landFrom Sana on to Samarcand–Wherever Persian prince has beenOr Dervish, Sheik or Bedouin,And I defy you there to pointMe out a […]

Low hidden in among the forest treesAn artist’s tilted easel, ankle-deepIn tousled ferns and mosses, and in theseA fluffy water-spaniel, half asleepBeside a sketch-book and a fallen hat–A little wicker flask tossed into that. A sense of utter carelessness and graceOf pure abandon in the slumb’rous scene,–As if the June, all hoydenish of face,Had romped […]

So lone I stood, the very trees seemed drawnIn conference with themselves.–Intense–intenseSeemed everything;–the summer splendor onThe sight,–magnificence! A babe’s life might not lighter fail and dieThan failed the sunlight–Though the hour was noon,The palm of midnight might not lighter lieUpon the brow of June. With eyes upraised, I saw the underwingsOf swallows–gone the instant afterward–While […]

Piped to the Spirit of John Keats. I. Would that my lips might pour out in thy praiseA fitting melody–an air sublime,–A song sun-washed and draped in dreamy haze–The floss and velvet of luxurious rhyme:A lay wrought of warm languors, and o’er-brimmedWith balminess, and fragrance of wild flowersSuch as the droning bee ne’er wearies of–Such […]

Jap Miller down at Martinsville’s the blamedest feller yit!When he starts in a-talkin’ other folks is apt to quit!–‘Pears like that mouth o’ his’n wuz n’t made fer nuthin’ elseBut jes’ to argify ’em down and gether in their pelts:He’ll talk you down on tariff; er he’ll talk you down on tax,And prove the pore […]

Tomps ‘ud allus haf to saySomepin’ ’bout “his mother’s way.”–He lived hard-like–never jinedAny church of any kind.–“It was Mother’s way,” says he,“To be good enough fer meAnd her too,–and certinlyLord has heerd her pray!”Propped up on his dyin’ bed,–“Shore as Heaven’s overhead,I’m a-goin’ there,” he said—“It was Mother’s way.”

The Hoosier Folk-Child–all unsung–Unlettered all of mind and tongue;Unmastered, unmolested–madeMost wholly frank and unafraid:Untaught of any school–unvexedOf law or creed–all unperplexed–Unsermoned, aye, and undefiled,An all imperfect-perfect child–A type which (Heaven forgive us!) youAnd I do tardy honor to,And so, profane the sanctitiesOf our most sacred memories.Who, growing thus from boy to man,That dares not be […]

Bad Boy’s Version. Tell you a story–an’ it’s a fac’:–Wunst wuz a little boy, name wuz Jack,An’ he had sword an’ buckle an’ strapMaked of gold, an’ a “‘visibul cap;”An’ he killed Gi’nts ‘at et whole cows–Th’ horns an’ all–an’ pigs an’ sows!But Jack, his golding sword wuz, oh!So awful sharp ‘at he could goAn’ […]

Mellow hazes, lowly trailingOver wood and meadow, veilingSomber skies, with wildfowl sailingSailor-like to foreign lands;And the north-wind overleapingSummer’s brink, and floodlike sweepingWrecks of roses where the weepingWillows wring their helpless hands. Flared, like Titan torches flingingFlakes of flame and embers, springingFrom the vale the trees stand swingingIn the moaning atmosphere;While in dead’ning-lands the lowingOf the […]

Written In Madison Caweln’s “Lyrics and Idyls.” Herein are blown from out the SouthSongs blithe as those of Pan’s pursed mouth–As sweet in voice as, in perfume,The night-breath of magnolia-bloom. Such sumptuous languor lures the sense–Such luxury of indolence–The eyes blur as a nymph’s might blur,With water-lilies watching her. You waken, thrilling at the trillOf […]

I. Dawn, noon and dewfall! Bluebird and robinUp and at it airly, and the orchard-blossoms bobbin’!Peekin’ from the winder, half-awake, and wishin’I could go to sleep agin as well as go a-fishin’! II. On the apern o’ the dam, legs a-danglin’ over,Drowsy-like with sound o’ worter and the smell o’ clover:Fish all out a visitin’–‘cept […]

I hail thee, Nessmuk, for the lofty toneYet simple grace that marks thy poetry!True forester thou art, and still to be,Even in happier fields than thou hast known.Thus, in glad visions, glimpses am I shownOf groves delectable–“preserves” for thee–Ranged but by friends of thine–I name thee three:– First, Chaucer, with his bald old pate new-grownWith […]

Out at Woodruff Place–afarFrom the city’s glare and jar,With the leafy trees, insteadOf the awnings, overhead;With the shadows cool and sweet,For the fever of the street;With the silence, like a prayer,Breathing round us everywhere. Gracious anchorage, at last,From the billows of the vastTide of life that comes and goes,Whence and where nobody knows–Moving, like a […]

O it was but a dream I hadWhile the musician played!–And here the sky, and here the gladOld ocean kissed the glade–And here the laughing ripples ran,And here the roses grewThat threw a kiss to every manThat voyaged with the crew. Our silken sails in lazy foldsDrooped in the breathless breeze:As o’er a field of […]