A Poem Begins In Delight

The Line-storm Clouds Fly Tattered And Swift, The Road Is Forlorn All Day, Where A Myriad Snowy Quartz Stones Lift, And The Hoof-prints Vanish Away. The Roadside Flowers, Too Wet For The Bee, Expend Their Bloom In Vain. Come Over The Hills And Far With Me, And Be My Love In The Rain.

The Vermont Mountains Stretch Extended Straight; New Hampshire Mountains Curl Up In A Coil.

Earth's The Right Place For Love. I Don't Know Where It's Likely To Go Better.

I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night. I Have Walked Out In Rain - And Back In Rain. I Have Outwalked The Furthest City Light. I Have Looked Down The Saddest City Lane. I Have Passed By The Watchman On His Beat And Dropped My Eyes, Unwilling To Explain.

The Heart Can Think Of No Devotion Greater Than Being Shore To The Ocean- Holding The Curve Of One Position, Counting An Endless Repetition.