A wilding little stubble flower
The sickle scorned which cut for wheat,
Such was our hope in that dark hour
When nought save uses held the street,
And daily pleasures, daily needs,
With barren vision, looked ahead.
And still the same result of seeds
Gave likeness twixt the live and dead.

The day is going, now 'tis noon,
Greenwood 'gins baying the Gladstone moon,
While temperate Morley with assuaging voice
Bids England in her bigger G. rejoice.

Fresh Spring has come with flower and leaf to warn
All men that they with leaf and flower enfold
Their hearts' desires, and in her fruitless gold
And fruitful rains stand wistful of the corn
That by and by shall greet a golden morn
In waves of wealth. Take courage, hearts a-cold,
For living with the Seasons, you grow old
No more than they, nor ever are forlorn.

Since Tuck is faithless found, no more
I'll trust to man or maid;
I'll sit me down, a hermit hoar,
Alone in Copsham shade.
The sight of all I shun
Far-spying from the mound:
I'll be at home to none
Since Tuck
Since Tu-a tua tua
taiaaia tuuuoa Tuck
is faithless found.

Oft as I paced the deck,
My thought recurred on the uncertain sea
To what is faster than the solid land.
My Country! can the heart clasp realm so vast
As the broad oceans that wash thee inclose?
Is not the charity ambitious
That meets its arms about a continent?
And yet the sages praise the preference
Of my own cabin to a baron's hall.
Chide it not then, but count it honesty
The insidious love & hate that curl the lip
Of the frank Yankee in the tenements
Of ducal & of royal rank abroad;
His supercilious ignorance

Here from the restless bed of lingering pain
The languid sufferer seeks the tepid wave,
And feels returning health and hope again
Disperse “the gathering shadows of the grave!”
And here romantic rocks that boldly swell,
Fringed with green woods, or stain'd with veins of ore,
Call'd native Genius forth, whose Heav'n-taught skill
Charm'd the deep echos of the rifted shore.
But tepid waves, wild scenes, or summer air,
Restore they palsied Fancy, woe-deprest?
Check they the torpid influence of Despair,
Or bid warm Health re-animate the breast;

To thy bright beams I turn my swimming eyes,
Fair, fav'rite planet! which in happier days
Saw my young hopes, ah! faithless hopes!—arise,
And on my passion shed propitious rays!
Now nightly wandering 'mid the tempests drear
That howl the woods and rocky steeps among,
I love to see thy sudden light appear
Thro' the swift clouds—driven by the wind along;
Or in the turbid water, rude and dark,
O'er whose wild stream the gust of Winter raves,
Thy trembling light with pleasure still I mark,
Gleam in faint radiance on the foaming waves!

And because you love me,
think you you do not hate me?
Ha, since you love me
to ecstasy
it follows you hate me to ecstasy.

Because when you hear me
go down the road outside the house
you must come to the window to watch me go,
do you think it is pure worship?

Because, when I sit in the room,
here, in my own house,
and you want to enlarge yourself with this friend of mine,
such a friend as he is,
yet you cannot get beyond your awareness of me,
you are held back by my being in the same world with you,
do you think it is bliss alone?

All the long school-hours, round the irregular hum of the class
Have pressed immeasurable spaces of hoarse silence
Muffling my mind, as snow muffles the sounds that pass
Down the soiled street. We have pattered the lessons ceaselessly—

But the faces of the boys, in the brooding, yellow light
Have been for me like a dazed constellation of stars,
Like half-blown flowers dimly shaking at the night,
Like half-seen froth on an ebbing shore in the moon.

Out of each face, strange, dark beams that disquiet;
In the open depths of each flower, dark, restless drops;

We have bit no forbidden apple,
Eve and I,
Yet the splashes of day and night
Falling round us, no longer dapple
The same valley with purple and white.

This is our own still valley,
Our Eden, our home;
But day shows it vivid with feeling,
And the pallor of night does not tally
With dark sleep that once covered the ceiling.

The little red heifer: to-night I looked in her eyes;
She will calve to-morrow
Last night, when I went with the lantern, the sow was grabbing her litter
With snarling red jaws; and I heard the cries