[WILDNESS]
To drift with the drifting clouds,
And blow with the blow of breezes,
To ripple with waves and murmur with caves,
To soar, as the sea-mew pleases!
To dip with the dipping sails,
And burn with the burning heaven—
My life! my soul! for the infinite roll
Of a day to wildness given!
[BEFORE AUTUMN]
Summer's last moon has waned—
Waned
As amber fires
Of an Aztec shrine.
The invisible breath of coming death has stained
The withering leaves with its nepenthean wine—
Autumn's near.
Winds in the woodland moan—
Moan
As memories
Of a chilling yore.
Magnolia seeds like Indian beads are strewn
From crimson pods along the earth's sere floor—
Autumn's near.