#AmericanWriters
732 She rose to His Requirement—dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife—
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
801 I play at Riches—to appease The Clamoring for Gold— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
21 We lose—because we win— Gamblers—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
489 We pray—to Heaven— We prate—of Heaven— Relate—when Neighbors die— At what o’clock to heaven—they fle…
104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.
201 Two swimmers wrestled on the spar— Until the morning sun— When One—turned smiling to the la… Oh God! the Other One!
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
UP with the sun, the breeze arose… Across the talking corn she goes, And smooth she rustles far and wid… Through all the voiceful countrysi… Through all the land her tale she…