#AmericanWriters
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.
My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June
104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— ’Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet blamed the fate that fractured…
’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw