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To Joanna William Wordsworth Amid the smoke of cities did you passYour time of early youth; and there you learnedFrom years of quiet industry, to loveThe living Beings by your own fire-side,With such a strong devotion, that your heartIs slow towards the sympathies of themWho look upon the hills with tenderness,And make dear friendships with […]

Edna St. Vincent Millay The Courage that My Mother Had The courage that my mother had Went with her, and is with her still: Rock from New England quarried; Now granite in a granite hill. The golden brooch my mother wore She left behind for me to wear; I have no thing I treasure more: […]