“These are the days when birds come back, a very few, a Bird or two, to take a backward look.”

“I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.”

“Then I will not repineKnowing that bird of mineThough flown shall in a distant treeBright melody for meReturn.”

“After you went, a low wind warbled through the house like a spacious bird, making it high but lonely. When you had gone the love came. I supposed it would. The supper of the heart is when the guest has gone.”

“I had been hungry all the years-My noon had come, to dine-I, trembling, drew the table nearAnd touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seenWhen turning, hungry, lone,I looked in windows, for the wealthI could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread,'Twas so unlike the crumbThe birds and I had often sharedIn Nature's diningroom. The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new,--Myself felt ill and odd,As berry of a mountain bushTransplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I foundThat hunger was a wayOf persons outside windows,The entering takes away.”

“A Bird came down the Walk –He did not know I saw –He bit an Angleworm in halvesAnd ate the fellow, raw,And then he drank a DewFrom a convenient Grass –And then hopped sidewise to the WallTo let a Beetle pass –...”

“A precious, mouldering pleasure ’tis To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To times when he was young. His quaint opinions to inspect, His knowledge to unfold On what concerns our mutual mind, The literature of old”