#AmericanWriters
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
531 We dream—it is good we are dreamin… It would hurt us—were we awake— But since it is playing—kill us, And we are playing—shriek—
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
LVII EXCEPT the heaven had come so n… So seemed to choose my door, The distance would not haunt me so… I had not hoped before.
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv… My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the fea…
834 Before He comes we weigh the Time… ’Tis Heavy and ’tis Light. When He depart, an Emptiness Is the prevailing Freight.
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies - Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize - Whose Allies go no more astray
