#AmericanWriters
A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict
To my quick ear the leaves conferr… The bushes they were bells; I could not find a privacy From Nature’s sentinels. In cave if I presumed to hide,
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
837 How well I knew Her not Whom not to know has been A Bounty in prospective, now Next Door to mine the Pain.
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
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
858 This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life I mention it to you, When Sunrise through a fissure dr… The Day must follow too.
329 So glad we are—a Stranger’d deem ’Twas sorry, that we were— For where the Holiday should be There publishes a Tear—
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.