“How silently they tumble down And come to rest upon the ground To lay a carpet, rich and rare, Beneath the trees without a care, Content to sleep, their work well done, Colors gleaming in the sun. At other times, they wildly fly Until they nearly reach the sky. Twisting, turning through the air Till […]

By an Autumn Fire

Now at our casement the wind is shrilling, Poignant and keen And all the great boughs of the pines between It is harping a lone and hungering strain To the eldritch weeping of the rain; And then to the wild, wet valley flying It is seeking, sighing, Something lost in the summer olden. When night […]

Song of a Second April

April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud and dingy snow; Hepaticas that pleased you so Are here again, and butterflies. There rings a hammering all day, And shingles lie about the doors; In orchards near and far away The grey wood-pecker […]

The Bugles of Dreamland

Swiftly the dews of the gloaming are falling: Faintly the bugles of Dreamland are calling. O hearken, my darling, the elf-flutes are blowing, The shining-eyed folk from the hillside are flowing, I’ the moonshine the wild-apple blossoms are snowing, And louder and louder where the white dews are falling The far-away bugles of Dreamland are […]

“Shall we liken Christmas to the web in a loom?  There are many weavers, who work into the pattern the experience of their lives. When one generation goes, another comes to take up the weft where it has been dropped. The pattern changes as the mind changes, yet never begins quite anew. At first, we […]

Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars that like swift horses through the heavens raced and suddenly leaped across the hurdles of our wishes–do you recall? And we did make so many! For there were countless numbers of stars: each time we looked above we were astounded by the swiftness of their daring play, while […]

The Four Seasons

Four seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring’s honey’d cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is […]