#AmericanWriters
271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday
Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away
786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—
Part One: Life LIII GOD gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv…
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
There is another Loneliness That many die without - Not want of friend occasions it Or circumstances of Lot But nature, sometimes, sometimes t…
XLVI A THOUGHT went up my mind to—d… That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year,