#AmericanWriters
XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;
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.
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.
Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers— Untouched by Morning— and untouched by noon— Sleep the meek members of the Res… Rafter of Satin and Roof of Ston…
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—
The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
56 If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away—
