#AmericanWriters
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
93 Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravoes The bystanders will tell!
Part One: Life LIV EXPERIMENT to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel?
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
So much of Heaven has gone from E… That there must be a Heaven If only to enclose the Saints To Affidavit given. The Missionary to the Mole
LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot