#AmericanWriters
573 The Test of Love—is Death— Our Lord—"so loved"—it saith— What Largest Lover—hath Another—doth—
461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…
737 The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Fac… Upon the World below—
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?
476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
761 From Blank to Blank— A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet— To stop—or perish—or advance—
517 He parts Himself—like Leaves— And then—He closes up— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup—
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
72 Glowing is her Bonnet, Glowing is her Cheek, Glowing is her Kirtle, Yet she cannot speak.
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—