#AmericanWriters
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…
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?
347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
I dwell in Possibility – A fairer House than Prose – More numerous of Windows – Superior – for Doors – Of Chambers as the Cedars –
