Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Online Catalog

Cabinet of American Illustration, Cartoon Drawings: Swann Collection of Caricature and Cartoon, Civil War Photographs Civil War Photographs, Drawings (Master),Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Color Photographs, Fine Prints Fine Prints, Posters: Performing Arts Posters, Stereograph Cards Stereograph Cards, Daguerreotypes, Fenton Crimean War Photographs, Fine Prints: Japanese, pre-1915, Lomax Collection, Panoramic Photographs, Thesaurus For Graphic Materials, Van Vechten Collection, Wright Brothers Negatives, and much more.


"NYU Bobst Library, NYU Institute of Fine Arts, NYU Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences, NYU Real Estate Institute, The New-York Historical Society, New York School of Interior Design, Cooper Union, New School University, Parsons School of Design, Mannes College of Music."


WHEN on the leaves the rain insists,
    And every gust brings showers down;
When all the woodland smokes with mists,
    I take the old road out of town
Into the hills through which it twists.
I find the vale where catnip grows, Where boneset blooms, with wetness bowed; The vale, through which the red creek flows, Turbid with hill-washed clay, and loud As some wild horn a woodsman blows.
Around the root the beetle glides, A living beryl; and the ant, Large, agate-red, a garnet, slides Beneath the rock; and every plant Is roof for some frail thing that hides.
Knotlike upon the gray-barked trees The lichen-colored moths are pressed; And, wedged in hollow blooms, the bees Seem clotted pollen; in its nest The hornet creeps and lies at ease.
The locust, too, that harshly saws The silence of the summer noon; And katydid, that thinly draws Its fine file o’er the bars of moon; And grasshopper that drills each pause:
The mantis, long-clawed, furtive, lean, — Fierce feline of the insect hordes, — And dragon fly, gauze-winged and green, Beneath the grape leaves and the gourds Have housed themselves, and rest unseen.
The butterfly and forest bird Are huddled on the same gnarled bough, From which, like some rain-voweled word That dampness hoarsely utters now, The tree toad’s voice is vaguely heard.
I crouch and listen; and again The woods are filled for me with forms. Weird, elfin shapes in train on train Arise; and now I feel the arms Around me of the wraiths of rain.
Madison Cawein [1865-1914]