The Stars and all the Flowers that sleep below them
Are theirs who learn to Name them and to Know them.

A B IRCH-BARK Basket may be fair to see,
But just to make one do not Spoil a Tree.

Enjoy the Road. The Best is lost to those
Who hurry blindly toward the Journey's Close.

I T is the Bough you did not break last Spring
That now delights your Soul with Blossoming.
The Gentians that you left beside the Wall
Are those whose Blue will gladden you this Fall.