It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that read more

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.

Millions of stars blazed in darkness, and on the far shore a few lights burned in cottages. Otherwise there was read more

Millions of stars blazed in darkness, and on the far shore a few lights burned in cottages. Otherwise there was no reminder of human life.

If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.

If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if read more

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.

I'm very gregarious, but I love being in the hills on my own.

I'm very gregarious, but I love being in the hills on my own.

When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare.

When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare.

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn read more

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God--the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures;
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward, Nature's good
And God's.

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of read more

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things... I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against read more

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things... I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind.