There sandy seems the golden skyAnd golden seems the sandy plain.No habitation meets the eyeUnless in the horizon rim,Some halfway…
The farmhouse lingers, though averse to squareWith the new city street it has to wearA number in. But what about…
Part IInto My OwnThe youth is persuaded that he will be rather more than less himselffor having forsworn the world.Ghost…
He halted in the wind, and -- what was thatFar in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?He stood there…