-
that wonderful, old-fashioned word, wend,
-
How red the fire reeks below,
-
A dominie in gray
-
Over the moon the shadows go,
-
Exultation is the going
-
Painted upon a background of pale gold,
-
It is a willow when summer is over,
-
Praised be the moon of books! that doth above
-
I never have taken a Peach in my Hand,
-
The poet will seek to clothe herself in sparrows.