#AmericanWriters
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart - Oh Shadow on the Grass
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—