Thanksgiving
Their Sweet Sorrow
Them Flowers
To an Importunate Ghost
To Hear Her Sing
Tom Van Arden
To the Serenader
Tugg Martin
Twins, The
Wandering Jew, The
Watches of the Night, The
Water Color, A
We to Sigh Instead of Sing
What Chris'mas Fetched the Wigginses
When Age Comes On
Where-Away
While the Musician Played
Wife-Blesséd, The
Wraith of Summertime, A
GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS
GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS
Ho! green fields and running brooks!
Knotted strings and fishing-hooks
Of the truant, stealing down
Weedy backways of the town.
Where the sunshine overlooks,
By green fields and running brooks,
All intruding guests of chance
With a golden tolerance,
Cooing doves, or pensive pair
Of picnickers, straying there—
By green fields and running brooks,
Sylvan shades and mossy nooks!
And—O Dreamer of the Days,
Murmurer of roundelays
All unsung of words or books,
Sing green fields and running brooks!
A COUNTRY PATHWAY.
I come upon it suddenly, alone—
A little pathway winding in the weeds
That fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own,
I wander as it leads.