#AmericanWriters
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
954 The Chemical conviction That Nought be lost Enable in Disaster My fractured Trust—
Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
234 You’re right—“the way is narrow”— And “difficult the Gate”— And “few there be”—Correct again— That “enter in—thereat”—
314 Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling— Sometimes—scalps a Tree— Her Green People recollect it When they do not die—
The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,
