The gentian weaves her fringes,    The maple’s loom is red.    My departing blossoms    Obviate parade.     A brief, but patient illness,    An hour to prepare;    And one, below this morning,    Is where…

    Some rainbow coming from the fair!    Some vision of the world Cashmere    I confidently see!    Or else a peacock’s purple train,    Feather by feather, on the plain    Fritters itself away!…

    A drop fell on the apple tree,    Another on the roof;    A half a dozen kissed the eaves,    And made the gables laugh.     A few went out to…

[Published in “A Masque of Poets” at the request of “H.H.,” the author’s fellow-townswoman and friend.]     Success is counted sweetest    By those who ne’er succeed.    To comprehend…

    It sounded as if the streets were running,    And then the streets stood still.    Eclipse was all we could see at the window,    And awe was all we…

    Summer for thee grant I may be    When summer days are flown!    Thy music still when whippoorwill    And oriole are done!     For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the…

    Some, too fragile for winter winds,    The thoughtful grave encloses, —    Tenderly tucking them in from frost    Before their feet are cold.     Never the treasures in her nest    The…

    So proud she was to die    It made us all ashamed    That what we cherished, so unknown    To her desire seemed.     So satisfied to go    Where none of us…

    A long, long sleep, a famous sleep    That makes no show for dawn    By stretch of limb or stir of lid, —    An independent one.     Was ever idleness…

    Sleep is supposed to be,    By souls of sanity,    The shutting of the eye.     Sleep is the station grand    Down which on either hand    The hosts of witness stand!…