#AmericanWriters
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
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 -
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!