She had never known before how much the country meant to her. The chirping of the insects in the long grass had been like the swee...test music. She had felt as if her heart were hiding down there, somewhere, with the quail and the plover and all the little wild things that crooned or buzzed in the sun. Under the long shaggy ridges, she felt the future stirring.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Once, when dust rolled up from the road and the fields were high with heavy-handled wheat and the leaves of every tree were gray a...nd curledup and hung head down, I went in the meadow with an old broom like a gun, where the dandelions had begun to seed and the low ground was cracked, and I flushed grasshoppers from the goldenrod in whirring clouds like quail and shot them down. I smelled wheat in the warm wind and every weed. I tasted dust in my mouth.... I hunted Horse Simon in the shade of a tree. I rode the broom over the brown meadow grass and with a fist like pistol butt and trigger shot the Indian on Horse Simon down.... My horse had a golden tail. Dust rolled up behind. He was on the tractor in a broad-brimmed hat. With a fist like a pistol butt and trigger, going fast, I shot him down.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
His legs bestrid the ocean; his reared arm Crested the world; his voice was propertied... As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in 't; an autumn it was That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphinlike; they showed his back above The element they lived in. In his livery Walked crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropped from his pocket.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
And Change with hurried hand has swept these scenes: The woods have fallen, across the meadow-lot... The hunter's trail and trap-path is forgot, And fire has drunk the swamps of evergreens; Yet for a moment let my fancy plant These autumn hills again: the wild dove's haunt, The wild deer's walk: in golden umbrage shut,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Waters above! Eternal springs! The dew that silvers the Dove's wings!... O welcome, welcome to the sad: Give dry dust drink, drink that makes glad! Many fair ev'nings, many flow'rs Sweetened with rich and gentle showers, Have I enjoyed,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »