I Found The Poems In The Fields

Yet Simple Souls, Their Faith It Knows No Stint: Things Least To Be Believed Are Most Preferred. All Counterfeits, As From Truth's Sacred Mint, Are Readily Believed If Once Put Down In Print

Love Lives With Nature, Not With Lust. Go Find Her In The Flowers.

Loud Is The Summer's Busy Song The Smallest Breeze Can Find A Tongue, While Insects Of Each Tiny Size Grow Teasing With Their Melodies, Till Noon Burns With Its Blistering Breath Around, And Day Lies Still As Death.

Throw Not My Words Away, As Many Do;they're Gold In Value, Though They're Cheap To You.

Tasteful Illumination Of The Night, Bright Scattered, Twinkling Star Of Spangled Earth.