#AmericanWriters
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
130 These are the days when Birds com… A very few—a Bird or two— To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resu…
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
447 Could—I do more—for Thee— Wert Thou a Bumble Bee— Since for the Queen, have I— Nought but Bouquet?
72 Glowing is her Bonnet, Glowing is her Cheek, Glowing is her Kirtle, Yet she cannot speak.
239 “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me!
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
832 Soto! Explore thyself! Therein thyself shalt find The “Undiscovered Continent”— No Settler had the Mind.
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
