Robin's here in coat of brown,And scarlet breast-knot gay.

I can look at the knot in a piece of wood until it frightens me.

You maid of hindering knot grass. You bead! You acorn!

If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one: I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

I have been an 'Official' all my life, without the least turn for it. I never could attain a true official manner, which is highly artificial and handles trifles with ludicrously disproportionate gravity.