Nature and Elements

I am in fact a Hobbit (in all but size). I likegardens, trees, and unmechanized farmlands; I smoke a pipe, and like good plain food (unrefrigerated), but detest French cooking; I like, and even dare to wear in these dull days, ornamental waistcoats. I am fond of mushrooms (out of a field); have a very simple sense of humor (which even my appreciative critics find tiresome); I go to bed late and get up late (when possible). I do not travel much.

 

The deep

 

And the stately ships go on

 

The problem of cat versus bird is as old as time. If we attempt to resolve it by legislation whoknows but what we may be called upon to takesides as well in the age old problems of dogversus cat, bird versus bird, or even bird versusworm. In my opinion, the State of Illinoisand its local governing bodies already haveenough to do without trying to control felinedelinquency.

 

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

 

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

 

The ghosts of the villages trail in the sky Making a new twilight.

 

Rain falls into the open eyes of the dead

 

To see the earth as we now see it, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the unending night—brothers who see now they are truly brothers.

 

Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,

 

John Thomas says good-night to Lady Jane, a little droopingly, but with a hopeful heart.

 

I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope .

 

Do you know why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.

 

Time and space are fragments of the infinite for the use of finite creatures.

Neanderthal man listened to stories, if one may judge by the shape of his skull.

If your life at night is good, you think you have / Everything; but, if in that quarter things go wrong, / You will consider your best and truest interests /

A hush is over everything— / Silent as women wait for love, / The world is waiting for the spring.

The man who thinks his wife, his baby, his house, his horse, his dog, and himself severally unequalled, is almost sure to he a good-humored person, though liable to be tedious at times.

There is no object on earth which cannot be looked at from a cosmic point of view.

Art is the flower of life and, as seed, it gives back life.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.

The hens they all cackle, the roosters all beg, But I will not hatch, I will not hatch.

There's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth.

A poet is a bird of unearthly excellence, who escapes from his celestial realm arrives in this world warbling.