Nature

Trees by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
Traveling through the Dark by William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things--
Birches by Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
February: The Boy Breughel by Norman Dubie
The birches stand in their beggar's row:
The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy
I leant upon a coppice gate
Song of Nature by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mine are the night and morning,
Four Poems for Robin by Gary Snyder
I slept under rhododendron
The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter by Ezra Pound
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
maggie and milly and molly and may by E. E. Cummings
maggie and milly and molly and may
Butterfly Catcher by Tina Cane
In the Sixties
Kentucky River Junction by Wendell Berry
Clumsy at first, fitting together
October (section I) by Louise Glück
Is it winter again, is it cold again,
Crossings by Ravi Shankar
Between forest and field, a threshold
Naskeag by Alfred Corn
Once a day the rocks, with little warning—
The Leaves by Deborah Digges
I can bless a death this human, this leaf
Two Butterflies went out at Noon— (533) by Emily Dickinson
Two Butterflies went out at Noon
Spontaneous Me by Walt Whitman
Spontaneous me, Nature
Russian Birch by Nathaniel Bellows
Is it agony that has bleached them to such beauty? Their stand
In Michael Robins’s class minus one by Bob Hicok
At the desk where the boy sat, he sees the Chicago River
Of Many Worlds in This World by Margaret Cavendish
Just like as in a nest of boxes round
God's World by Edna St. Vincent Millay
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough
Pastoral by Jennifer Chang
Something in the field is
The Wind and the Moon by George Macdonald
Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out
The Gladness of Nature by William Cullen Bryant
Is this a time to be cloudy and sad
Farewell by John Clare
Farewell to the bushy clump close to the river