#AmericanWriters
161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
112 Where bells no more affright the m… Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms—
66 So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise— Hidden away, cunningly, From saga…
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
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
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned
783 The Birds begun at Four o’clock— Their period for Dawn— A Music numerous as space— But neighboring as Noon—
