«Under an empty dwelling’s frozen roof, / Dead days. Here no living comes. / I read the acts of the Apostles / And the Psalms. / / But the stars are blue, the hoar-frost downy, / And each meeting more wonderful, / And in the Bible a red maple leaf / Marks the pages of the Song of S...»
«The churchyard’s quiet on a Sunday, / Under an oak board I shall rest. / Come to me, my dearest, running, / Come to your mama, like a guest. / Over the stream and hillside run, / So the slow grown-ups disappear; / From far, the keen eyes of my son / Will recognize my cross. My dear, ...»
«Neither by cart nor boat / Could you have got here. / On rotten snow / The deep water; / Farmsteads marooned and / Ah! that morose / Soul, that Robinson, / Is so close. / How often can / He inspect sledge and skis, / Return to the divan / To sit and wait for me? / And his sho...»
«Lying in me, as though it were a white / Stone in the depths of a well, is one / Memory that I cannot, will not, fight: / It is happiness and it is pain. / / Anyone looking straight into my eyes / Could not help seeing it, and could not fail / To become thoughtful, more sad and quiet ...»