#AmericanWriters
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
136 Have you got a Brook in your litt… Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drin… And shadows tremble so—
644 You left me—Sire—two Legacies— A Legacy of Love A Heavenly Father would suffice Had He the offer of—
807 Expectation—is Contentment— Gain—Satiety— But Satiety—Conviction Of Necessity
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.
