Poem by Josephine Preston Peabody

The Mystic

People say to me,
  'A penny for your thought.'--
And I can't remember thinking;
  And I should think I ought.
I wasn't sleeping, either:
  I know that, because
I saw things out of both my eyes.
  I wonder where I was.

Now I'm back, I see them
  Sitting all around;
And the noise, together,
  Makes a purring sound.
But I know Something More
  Than just awhile ago.
I know Something More!--
  I wonder what I know.

1. The Sorrows
2. Spinning in April
3. Church-Time
4. Chestnut Stands
5. Market

Alfred Noyes The Mystic ("With wounds out-reddening every moon-washed rose")

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