Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night,

Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in...

So all day long I followed through the fields
  The voice of Autumn, calling from afar;
And now I thought: “Yon hazel thicket yields
  A glimpse of her,” and now: “These asters are
Sure sign that she of late has passed this way;
  Lo! here the traces of...

Thou blossom, bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night;

Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in...

Distrustful of the Gentian —

And just to turn away,

The fluttering of her fringes

Chid my perfidy —

Weary for my —————

I will singing go —

I shall not feel the sleet — then —

I shall not fear...

Poet:

God made a little Gentian —

It tried — to be a Rose —

And failed — and all the Summer laughed —

But just before the Snows


There rose a Purple Creature —

That ravished all the Hill —

And Summer hid...

Poet:

The Gentian has a parched Corolla —

Like azure dried

'Tis Nature's buoyant juices

Beatified —

Without a vaunt or sheen

As casual as Rain

And as benign —


When most is part — it comes —...

Poet:

The Gentian weaves her fringes —

The Maple's loom is red —

My departing blossoms

Obviate parade.


A brief, but patient illness —

An hour to prepare,

And one below this morning

Is where the...

Poet: