#AmericanWriters
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
474 They put Us far apart— As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula— We signified “These see”—
728 Let Us play Yesterday— I—the Girl at school— You—and Eternity—the Untold Tale—
These Fevered Days—to take them t… Where Waters cool around the moss… And shade is all that devastates t… Seems it sometimes this would be a…
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
447 Could—I do more—for Thee— Wert Thou a Bumble Bee— Since for the Queen, have I— Nought but Bouquet?
81 We should not mind so small a flow… Except it quiet bring Our little garden that we lost Back to the Lawn again.
35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.
482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
199 I’m “wife”'—I’ve finished that’— That other state’— I’m Czar’—I’m “Woman” now’— It’s safer so’—
She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,
529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.