O fram'd at once to charm the ear and sight,
Thou emblem of all conjugal delight,
See Flora greets thee with her fragrant powers,
A groupe of Virtues claims a wreath of Flowers.

Solomon most glorious in array
Put not on his glories without care:—
Clothe us as Thy lilies of a day,
As the lilies Thou accountest fair,
Lilies of Thy making,
Of Thy love partaking,
Filling with free fragrance earth and air:
Thou Who gatherest lilies, gather us and wear.

The double moon, one on the high backdrop of the west, one on the curve of the river face,
The sky moon of fire and the river moon of water, I am taking these home in a basket, hung on an elbow, such a teeny weeny elbow, in my head.
I saw them last night, a cradle moon, two horns of a moon, such an early hopeful moon, such a child's moon for all young hearts to make a picture of.
The river—I remember this like a picture—the river was the upper twist of a written question mark.
I know now it takes many many years to write a river, a twist of water asking a question.

In tempest and storm blackness of darkness for ever,
A fire unextinguished, a worm's indestructible swarm;
Where no hope shall ever be more, and love shall be never,
In tempest and storm;
Where the form of all things is fashionless, void of all form;
Where from death that severeth all, the soul cannot sever
In tempest and storm.

This love of nature, that allures to take
Irregularity for harmony
Of larger scope than our hard measures make,
Cherish it as thy school for when on thee
The ills of life descend.

When Will was at home in his palace of zinc,
He had no room to move; but plenty to think!

One night he dreamed of a palace fair,—
Next year, it stood in marble strong,
Sheltered a nation's proudest throne,
There sate the fathers of the state,
There echoed freedom's shrill debate
A thousand years it will stand the same
Enacting laws & breathing Fame.

The comrade or the book is good
That puts me in a working mood:
Unless to thought be added will,
Apollo is an imbecile.
What parts, what truth, what fancies shine!
—Ah! but I miss the just design.

But God will keep his promise yet
Trees & clouds are prophets sure
And new & finer forms of life
Day by day approach the pure.

The sea reflects the rosy sky,
The sky doth marry the blue main.