On the summer road that ran by our front porch Lizards and snakes came out to sun. It was hot as a stove out there, enough to scorch A buzzard’s foot. Still, it was
Samuel Sewall, in a world of wigs, Flouted opinion in his personal hair; For foppery he gave not any figs, But in his right and honor took the air. Thus in his naked style,
For William and Emily Maxwell At this time of day One could hear the caulking irons sound Against the hulls in the dockyard. Tar smoke rose between trees And large oily patches floated on