A few favorite poems

Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
--Carl Sandburg

The Somerset Farmer
I said,
It is good to live in the country,
To have a small cottage in a big green field,
A neat little garden inside a gateway,
To see how much you can make it yield;
To have dusty chickens and a spotted calf
And a good stout cow with a silky skin,
This, I suppose, is better by half
Than the winning of much men die to win?
The Somerset Farmer rubbed his head
And smiled at me. "Oh-ay," he said.

I said again,
It is good to be friendly,
To have a small door where neighbors knock,
To get up early and work while you listen
To a cuckoo singing as well as a clock;
And to lie down when the West is ruddy
With hardly a thought that is not kind;
With the earth to con and sky to study
A man need never be dull of mind?
The Somerset Farmer nodded at me
And smiled again, "Oh-ay," said he.

I said,
It is good to have young things near you,
Children to play with, children to hold;
To hear them laughing; to have them near you
Calling to them as you grow old;
To know that you have a part in the ages
Through all to-morrows, though silently,
Immortal as singers and saints and sages
While youth buds out on the ancient tree --
The Somerset Man looked out at the sky.
Solemn and soft he said, "Oh-ay,"
--Marguerite Wilkinson

The Old Woman
As a white candle
In a holy place,
So is the beauty
Of an aged face.

As the spent radiance
Of the winter sun,
So is a woman
With her travail done,

Her brood gone from her,
And her thoughts as still
As the waters
Under a ruined mill
--Joseph Campbell

"Like Barely Bending"
Like barley bending
In low fields by the sea,
Singing in hard wind
Ceaselessly,

Like barley bending
And rising again,
So would I, unbroken,
Rise from pain;

So would I softly,
Day long, night long,
Change my sorrow
Into song.
--Sara Teasdale

Sic Vita

Heart free, hand free,
Blue above, brown under,
All the world to me
Is a place of wonder.
Sun shine, moon shine,
Stars, and winds a-blowing,
All into this heart of mine
Flowing, flowing, flowing!

Mind free, step free,
Days to follow after,
Joys of life sold to me
For the price of laughter,
Girl's love, man's love,
Love of work and duty,
Just a will of God's to prove
Beauty, beauty, beauty.
--William Stanly Braithwaite