#AmericanWriters
760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature
920 We can but follow to the Sun— As oft as He go down He leave Ourselves a Sphere behin… ’Tis mostly—following—
632 The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside—
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?
458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
631 Ourselves were wed one summer—dear… Your Vision—was in June— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied—too—of mine—
906 The Admirations—and Contempts—of… Show justest—through an Open Tomb… The Dying—as it were a Height Reorganizes Estimate
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
I SHOULD have been too glad, I… Too lifted for the scant degree Of life’s penurious round; My little circuit would have shame… This new circumference, have blame…
