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I walk the unfrequented road
With open eye and ear;
I watch a-field the farmer load
The bounty of the year.

A beauty spring-time never knew
Haunts all the quiet ways,
And sweeter shines the landscape through
Its veil of autumn haze.

I face the hill, the streams, the wood,
And feel with all a-kin;
My heart expands;
Their fortitude
And peace and joy flow in.

I filch the fruit of no man's toil
No trespasser am I,
And yet I reap from ev`ry soil
And from the unmeasured sky.

I gather where I did not sow,
And bind the mystic sheaf,
The amber air, the river's flow,
The rustle of the leaf."
- Frederick L. Hosmer, 1835

I believe in using words, not fists. I believe in h

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Pricela Carpenter