#AmericanWriters
420 You’ll know it—as you know ’tis N… By Glory— As you do the Sun— By Glory—
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
197 Morning—is the place for Dew— Corn—is made at Noon— After dinner light—for flowers— Dukes—for Setting Sun!
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
594 The Battle fought between the Sou… And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One—
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—
A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense– the starkest Madness… ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -