James Benjamin Kenyon Home Poems Poets James Benjamin Kenyon Poems A Quaker Maid by James B. Kenyon She sits beneath the trellised vine Beside the open door; Seed-Time by James B. Kenyon The fields lie swathed in misty blue; Dim vapors crown the wooded height; Harvest by James B. Kenyon The hills are steeped in slumberous haze; The wind is breathing soft and low; Dandelions by James B. Kenyon What unseen power hath wrought this wondrous change? It was but yestermorn the dull brown mold August by James B. Kenyon She sits within the shadow of the vine, A swart young gypsy queen with turbaned head; Reaping by James B. Kenyon Along the east strange glories burn, And kindling lights leap high and higher,