#AmericanWriters
678 Wolfe demanded during dying “Which obtain the Day”? “General, the British”—"Easy” Answered Wolfe “to die”
91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
182 If I shouldn’t be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair
859 A doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—
756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—