Croton-on-Hudson

Unexpectedly, on the alien hill, the familiar flower is seen,

The bladder-campion's smooth pods, the golden-rod,

The sorrel's triplets, but sheltered by the broken green

Of leaves of sumach and ailanthus, where the elder's

Clustering of flowers might, by the stranger, be expected;

The chirping sparrow pursues a stranger butterfly,

And in the wood the catbird mews and the cricket

Purls its long song, and after dusk the lightning-bugs fly

Sparkling among the unfamiliar trees. Here, where they mix,

The unknown and the known have become a certain place.