In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned;

Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned

By those that are not entirely beautiful;

Yet many, that have played the fool

For beauty's very self, has charm made wisc.

And many a poor man that has roved,

Loved and thought himself beloved,

Oaken fringed and newly green

A millennium of long grass and silver stones.

They called up to him "Come down, we are leaving now."

But he wanted nothing but to stay

And waved a hand, "Go without me."

Then, beside the flattened places where deer had lain,

He stood, and looked long at the watery heights of surrounding hills

Between these grassy drifts

And the pleasant places of stony childhood.

Somewhere Out of the Wind

A hidden place on a hillside

Where a boy can huddle down

Watching tall trees bend and sway

And be alone, out of the wind.

When the sky is fresh with storms

And the air is thick with rain

Come, crawl in here and be still

And look out at the rain and the wind.

A few gray and weathered boards

A piece of blanket for a door

Half hidden beneath the tall grass

A lean-to against the wind.

Away from wheels and cupboards

From faces and afternoon windows

A refuge from stairs and questions

A hillside, quiet but for the wind.

A small town in the Midwest

Where a man might think to hide

Watching dark clouds along the river

Dark days hiding from the wind.

And as summers come and stay

And stillness keeps the world at bay

The huddling one in time grows old

Forgotten by even the wind.