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A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
- The Flood of Years [Sculpture]
When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multiple
OF golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.
- The Fountain [April]
The tulip-tree, high up,
Opened, in airs of June, her multitude
Of golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-winged insects of the sky.
- The Fountain (st. 3) [Tulip Tree]
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.
- The Hunter's Serenade [Jasmines]
Within the woods,
Whose young and half transparent leaves scarce cast
A shade, gray circles of anemones
Danced on their stalks.
- The Old Man's Counsel [Anemones]
The shad-bush, white with flowers,
Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut
And quivering poplar to the roving breeze
Gave a balsamic fragrance.
- The Old Man's Counsel (l. 28) [Trees]
What plant we in this apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs
To load the May-wind's restless wings,
When, from the orchard-row, he pours
Its fragrance through our open doors;
A world of blossoms for the bee,
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room,
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom,
We plant with the apple tree.
- The Planting of the Apple Tree [Apples]
The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel
To clasp the boughs above.
- The Serenade [Ivy]
On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered;
Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee,
Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them
Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.
- The Third of November [November]
The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs that hover in the summer sky
Are all asleep to-night.
- The Tides [Moon]
Wild was the day; the wintry sea
Moaned sadly on New England's strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
Our fathers, trod the desert land.
- The Twenty-second of December [December]
A breeze came wandering from the sky,
Light as the whispers of a dream;
He put the o'erhanging grasses by,
And softly stooped to kiss the stream,
The pretty stream, the flattered stream,
The shy, yet unreluctant stream.
- The Wind and Stream [Wind]
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
- Third of November [Autumn]
Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out,
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about,
In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing,
And tell how little our large veins would bleed,
Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.
- To a Mosquito [Mosquitoes]
Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,
Thy figure floats along.
- To a Water Fowl [Sea Birds]
Of columbines, in purple dressed
Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.
- To the Fringed Gentian [Columbines]
Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew,
And colour's with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
- To the Fringed Gentian [Gentians]
Thou unrelenting past.
- To the Past [Past]
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