So soft!—a handful of intangible ash with fixed, ignited eyes.

frail, illegal fire balloons appear. Climbing the mountain height, rising toward a saint

for Robert Lowell

she had felt from the first that, in a community where the amenities of living could be obtained only at the cost of efforts as arduous as her husband's professional labors, such brief leisure as they could command should be used as an escape from immediate preoccupations, a flight to the life they always dreamed of living. Once or twice, now that this new life had actually drawn its magic circle about them, she had asked herself if she had done right; but hitherto such conjectures had been no more than the retrospective excursions of an active fancy. Now, for the first time, it startled her a little to find how little she knew of the material foundation on which her happiness was built.

But almost with the next tick of the clock the ambiguous figure, gaining substance and character, showed itself even to her weak sight as her husband's; and she turned away to meet him, as he entered, with the confession of her folly.

Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,

This flesh will never give a child its mother,

tricks of lust and pride. 

Cassandra

Upon a broken world.

To-day I can only gather it And put it into my lunch-box,

afternoon And turn it in my fingers,

Two little boys, lying flat on their faces, Were carefully gathering red berries To put in a pasteboard box.

September, 1918

Some day there will be no war,

dear familiar gods of home

Out of the silence in the empty house each day

But is creation itself like the growth of a tree. No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark Another circle is growing in the expanding ring. No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark, But the tree is lifted by this inward work And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.

That blame is just as dear as Praise And Praise as mere as Blame -

Hills you left for me to Hue - There was no Purple suitable - You took it all with you -

That April - Lock the Door - I will not be pursued -

Letter, and the Birds -

That gentlemen so sprightlyConduct the pleasing scene!

gurgle

If I should

Rabbi of the Wise Book

I went to School But was not wiser

Knows how to forget!

When one learn how

Flap past it to the Farmer’s Corn –

THE river sings his ancient song Upon his stony bed,

the captive cries! Fade swiftly then, thou lingering year, Test with the storms our eager powers; For chains are broken with the hours, And Freedom waits upon thy bier.

Under the flowers my soldier lies!

My son.

Woman of nerve and thought, Bring in the urn your power! By you is manhood taught To meet the supreme hour.

    "The vine shall give her fruit, and the ground shall give her increase, and the heavens shall give their dew."

tand thou with me and watch his eager feet.     He stays not for the drought,     Nor lingers in the shade, Save where the clover and the streamlet meet;     There, quiet, unafraid,     The tender lambs may feed While the calm noon gives rest to those who are in need.

singing

the figure of a man who was crossing the meadow below looked like a malicious black insect. It was an old man, it was Enoch Holt; time had worn and bent him enough to have satisfied his bitterest foe. The women could see his empty coat-sleeve flutter as he walked slowly and unexpectantly in that glorious evening light.

     The sisters had been rich for one night; in the morning they waked to find themselves poor with a bitter pang of poverty of which they had never dreamed.

     "Father never liked to leave no great of a fire, even though he slept right here in the bedroom. He said this floor was one that would light an' catch easy, you r'member."      "Another winter we can move down and take the bedroom ourselves -- 'twill be warmer for us," suggested Hannah; but Betsey shook her head doubtfully. The thought of their old father's grave, unwatched and undefended in the outermost dark field, filled their hearts with a strange tenderness. They had been his dutiful, patient slaves, and it seemed like disloyalty to have abandoned the poor shape; to be sitting there disregarding the thousand requirements and services of the past. More than all, they were facing a free future; they were their own mistresses at last, though past sixty years of age. Hannah was still a child at heart. She chased away a dread suspicion, when Betsey forbade the wood, lest this elder sister, who favored their father's looks, might take his place as stern ruler of the household.

She had formed a pacific habit of suiting her remarks to his point of view to save an outburst.

He knew at once that she loved Dick, and determined not to stay and see her his wife; for he couldn't be with her after that, you know, and then she might think he had killed himself. It was half revenge, and half sorrow, he s

Neither of the brothers ever married, and both died years ago. Dick is buried by Jenny Garrow's side.

    He seemed to be entirely changed after that. Dick was liberated, of course; and they settled down together on the old Tyler Farm

     "For Heaven's sake, William Tyler, where did you come from?"

quick, sharp voice, so unlike her own that I wondered if it really was hers,

Jenny Garrow -- Jenny Garrow still -- was sitting by me on the grass. Poor Jenny! She wasn't so gay as she used to be, but more quiet and thoughtful -- sometimes sad.

     "Where's Dick?" to see what he would say.      "I don't know nor care," said he; and some one spoke to me, and I left him.

     Of course she had plenty of lovers, and no wonder; for, besides the nice girl she was, Farmer Garrow's purse was well filled. She was the only child.

the Friend those other fishermen found, who were mending their nets on the shores of Galilee!

knew where the flowers grew under them, and where the ferns were greenest, and it was as much home to me as my own house. They grew on the side of a hill, and the sun always shone through the tops of the trees as it went down, while below it was all in shadow

I always wanted to see something of the world. I never have been but dreadful little ways from home. I used to wish I could keep school; and once my uncle was agent for his district, and he said I could have a chance; but the folks laughed to think o' me keeping school, and I never said any thing more about it. But you see it might 'a' led to something. I always wished I could go to Boston. I suppose you've been there? There! I couldn't live out o' sight o' the woods, I don't believe."

"She's going to move up to Boston 'long of her son," said one of the women, who looked very pleasant and very tired. "I think myself it's a bad plan to pull old folks up by the roots. There's a niece o' hers that would have been glad to stop with her, and do for the old lady. But John, he's very high-handed, and wants it his way, and he says his mother sha'n't live in no such a place as this. He makes a sight o' money. He's got out a patent, and they say he's just bought a new house that cost him eleven thousand dollars. But old Mis' Wallis, she's wonted here; and she was telling of me yesterday she was only going to please John. He says he wants her up there, where she'll be more comfortable, and see something."

best jacket and trousers (which might have been most boys' worst)

rest of the men never froze." That was it, -- the "rest of the men;" and he would work until he dropped, or tend a line until his fingers froze, for the sake of that likeness,

(I hope that day has already dawned)

idle, pleasant days that I spent by the sea.

She's