The Road Less Traveled

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

—

The Pasture

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
And wait to watch the water clear, I may
I shan’t be gone long
You come too
I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother
It’s so young
It totters when she licks it with her tongue
I shan’t be gone long
You come too

—

Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music — hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush’s breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went —
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn’t been.

—

The Telephone

‘When I was just as far as I could walk
From here today,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head again a flower
I heard you talk.
Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say—
You spoke from that flower on the window sill—
Do you remember what it was you said?’

‘First tell me what it was you thought you heard.’

‘Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned on my head
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word—
What was it?  Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say—
Someone said “Come”— I heard it as I bowed.’

‘I may have thought as much, but not aloud.’

“Well, so I came.’

—

A Girl’s Garden

A neighbor of mine in the village
    Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, she did
    A childlike thing.

One day she asked her father
    To give her a garden plot
To plant and tend and reap herself,
    And he said, “Why not?”

In casting about for a corner
    He thought of an idle bit
Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood,
    And he said, “Just it.”

And he said, “That ought to make you
    An ideal one-girl farm,
And give you a chance to put some strength
    On your slim-jim arm.”

It was not enough of a garden,
    Her father said, to plough;
So she had to work it all by hand,
    But she don’t mind now.

She wheeled the dung in the wheelbarrow
    Along a stretch of road;
But she always ran away and left
    Her not-nice load.

And hid from anyone passing.
    And then she begged the seed.
She says she thinks she planted one
    Of all things but weed.

A hill each of potatoes,
    Radishes, lettuce, peas,
Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn,
    And even fruit trees

And yes, she has long mistrusted
    That a cider apple tree
In bearing there to-day is hers,
    Or at least may be.

Her crop was a miscellany
    When all was said and done,
A little bit of everything,
    A great deal of none.

Now when she sees in the village
    How village things go,
Just when it seems to come in right,
    She says, “I know!

It’s as when I was a farmer——”
    Oh, never by way of advice!
And she never sins by telling the tale
    To the same person twice.

—

Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening

—

Choose Something Like a Star

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud –
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says “I burn.”
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

—

Long Time Ago

On the lake where droop’d the willow
Long time ago,
Where the rock threw back the billow
Brighter than snow.
Dwelt a maid beloved and cherish’d
By high and low,
But with autumn leaf she perished
Long time ago.
Rock and tree and flowing water
Long time ago,
Bird and bee and blossom taught her
Love’s spell to know.
While to my fond words she listen’d
Murmuring low,
Tenderly her blue eyes glisten’d
Long time ago.

—

Simple Gifts

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free
’tis the gift to come down where you ought to be
And when we find ourselves in the place just right
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained
To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed
To turn, turn will be our delight
‘Till by turning, turning we come round right.

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free
’tis the gift to come down where you ought to be
And when we find ourselves in the place just right
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

—

I Bought Me a Cat

I bought me a cat, my cat pleased me,
I fed my cat under yonder tree.
My cat says fiddle eye fee.

I bought me a duck, my duck pleased me,
I fed my duck under yonder tree.
My duck says, “Quaa, quaa”,
My cat says fiddle eye fee.

I bought me a goose, my goose pleased me,
I fed my goose under yonder tree.
My goose says, “Quaw, quaw”,
My duck says. . .

I bought me a hen, my hen pleased me.
I fed my hen under yonder tree.
My hen says, Shimmy shack, shimmy shack”,
My goose says. . .

I bought me a pig, my pig pleased me.
I fed my pig under yonder tree.
My pig says, “Griffey, griffey”.
My hen says. . .

I bought me a cow, my cow pleased me.
I fed my cow under yonder tree.
My cow says “Moo, moo”,
my pig says . . .

I bought me a horse, my horse pleased me.
I fed my horse under yonder tree.
My horse says, “Neigh, neigh”,
My cow says. . .

I got me a spouse, my spouse pleased me.
I fed my spouse under yonder tree.
My spouse says, “Honey, honey”,
My horse says “Neigh, neigh”. . .

—

Little Horses

Hush you bye,
Don’t you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake,
You shall have,
All the pretty little horses.
Blacks and bays,
Dappls and grays,
Coach and six-a little horses.
Blacks and bays,
Dapples and grays,
Coach and six-a little horses.
Hush you bye,
Don’t you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake,
You’ll have sweet cake and
All the pretty little horses.
A brown and gray and a black and a bay and a
Coach and six-a little horses.
A black and a bay ad a brown and a gray and a
Coach and six-a little horses.
Hush you bye,
Don’t you cry,
Oh you pretty little baby.
Go to sleepy little baby.
Oh you pretty little baby.

—

Zion’s Walls

Come fathers and mothers,
Come sisters and brothers,
Come join us in singing the praises of Zion.
O fathers, don’t you feel determined
To meet within the walls of Zion?
We’ll shout and go round
The walls of Zion.

—

At the River

Shall we gather by the river
Where bright angel’s feet have trod
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?

Yes, we’ll gather by the river
The beautiful, the beautiful river
Gather with the saints by the river
That flows by the throne of God

Ere we reach the shining river
Lay we every burden down
Praise our spirits will deliver
And provide our robe and crown

Yes, we’ll gather at the river
The beautiful, the beautiful, river
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God

Soon we’ll reach the shining river
Soon our pilgrimage will cease
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace

Yes, we’ll gather by the river
The beautiful, the beautiful river
Gather with the saints by the river
That flows by the throne of God

—

Ching-A-Ring Chaw

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,
Hoa dinga ding kum larkee,
Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,
Hoa ding kum larkee.

Brothers gather round,
Listen to this story,
‘Bout the promised land,
An’ the promised glory.

You don’ need to fear,
If you have no money,
You don’ need none there,
To buy you milk and honey.

There you’ll ride in style,
Coach with four white horses,
There the evenin’ meal,
Has one two three four courses.

Nights we all will dance
To the harp and fiiddle,
Waltz and jig and prance,
“Cast off down the middle!”

When the mornin’ come,
All in grand and spendour,
Stand out in the sun,
And hear the holy thunder.

Brothers hear me out,
The promised land’s a-comin’
Dance and sing and shout,
I hear them harps a strummin’.