Alice Cary

“ Roses crowding the selfsame way,
Out of a wilding wayside bush.
Listen closer.⁠When you have done
With woods and cornfields and grazing herds,
A lady the loveliest ever the sun
Looked down upon, you must paint for me. ”

“ Woods upon woods, with fields of corn
Lying between them, not quite sere,
And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom,
When the wind can hardly find breathing room
Under their tassels; cattle near ”