#AmericanWriters
645 Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen— A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs—between—
LVI Faith is a fine invention For gentlemen who see; But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
834 Before He comes we weigh the Time… ’Tis Heavy and ’tis Light. When He depart, an Emptiness Is the prevailing Freight.
139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed— But tens have won an all—
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
232 The Sun—just touched the Morning— The Morning—Happy thing— Supposed that He had come to dwel… And Life would all be Spring!
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
769 One and One—are One— Two—be finished using— Well enough for schools— But for minor Choosing—