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Come, bud, show me the least of her traces,
Treasure my lady's lightest footfall!
---Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces---When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces,
The mother of months in meadow or plain
Fills the shadows and windy placesI is there that we are going with our rods and reels and traces,
To a silent, smoky Indian that we know --
To a couch of new-pulled hemlock, with the starlight on our faces,Which even now, behold, the friendly mumbling rain erases,
And the inarticulate snow,
Leaving at last of her least signs and tracesAnd I know full well that the strangers' faces
Would meet us now is our dearest places;
For our day is dead and has left no tracesNever while to silent places
Memory of old day tracesWHEN the hounds of spring are on winter's traces,
The mother of months in meadow or plain
Fills the shadows and windy placesSmile and rainbow leave no traces;--
From the spring-time's laughing graces,and you, the lovers, whose love was in your faces—
there you were, back once more—and still the traces!—While the Monarch but traces
Through mortals his line,
Beauty, born of the Graces,She glides, and she graces
The valleys of coolness, the slopes of the heat,
With her blossomy traces;I'll walk, but not in old heroic traces,
And not in paths of high morality,
And not among the half-distinguished faces,But frendly Faeries, met with many Graces,
And lightfote Nymphes can chace the lingring night,
With Heydeguyes, and trimly trodden traces,There are ampler realms and spaces,
Where no foot has left its traces:In her form your fancy traces
All the gifts of all the graces.In whose form I catch the traces
Of your mother's gifts and graces,Swimming out from seas of faces,
Alien myriads memory traces,Nations have passed away and left no traces,
And History gives the naked cause of it--
One single, simple reason in all cases;the silence, the fearful compelling spaces...
With his knowing hand, in my dark, God tracesOh, Dark Companion, Death, whose wide embraces
O'ertake remotest change of clime and skies --
Oh, Dark Companion, Death, whose grievous traces