p leaves are as lips that yield
Balm and balsam, and Spring,--concealed
In the odorous green,--is so revealed,
Halloo and oh!
Hallo for the woods and the far away!"

II.

He trilled a song as he mowed the mead,
Mowed the mead as noon begun:
"When the hills are gold with the ripened seed,
As the sunset stairs that loom and lead
To the sky where Summer knows naught of need,
Halloo and oh!
Hallo for the hills and the harvest sun!"

III.

He hummed a song as he swung the flail,
Swung the flail in the afternoon:
"When the idle fields are a wrecker's tale,
That the Autumn tells to the twilight pale,
As the Year turns seaward a crimson sail,
Halloo and oh!
Hallo for the fields and the hunter's-moon!"

IV.

He whistled a song as he shouldered his axe,
Shouldered his axe in the evening storm:
"When the snow of the road shows the rabbit's tracks,
And the wind is a whip that the Winter cracks,
With a herdsman's cry, o'er the clouds' black backs,
Halloo and oh!
Hallo for home and a hearth to warm!"

PATHS

I.

What words of mine can tell the spell
Of garden ways I know so well?--
The path that takes me, in the spring,
Past quinces where the blue-birds sing,
Where peonies are blossoming,
Unto a porch, wistaria-hung,
Around whose steps May-lilies blow,
A fair girl reaches down among,
Her arm more white than their sweet snow.

II.

What words of mine can tell the spell
Of garden ways I know so well?--
Another path that leads me, when
The summer-time is here again,
Past hollyhocks that shame the west
When the red sun has sunk to rest;
To roses bowering a nest,
A lattice, 'neath which mignonette
And deep geraniums surge and sough,
Where, in the twilight, starless yet,
A fair girl's eyes are stars enough.

III.

What words of mine can tell the spell
Of garden ways I know so well?--
A path that takes me, when the days
Of autumn wrap themselves in haze,
Beneath the pippin-pelting tree,
'Mid flitting butterfly and bee;
Unto a door where, fiery,
The creeper climbs; and, garnet-hued,
The cock's-comb and the dahlia flare,
And in the door, where shades intrude,
Gleams out a fair girl's sunbeam hair.

IV.

What words of mine can tell the spell
Of garden ways I know so well?--
A path that brings me o'er the frost
Of winter, when the moon is tossed
In clouds; beneath great cedars, weak
With shaggy snow; past shrubs blown bleak
With sh