#AmericanWriters
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
93 Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravoes The bystanders will tell!
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
236 If He dissolve – then – there is… Eclipse – at Midnight – It was dark – before – Sunset – at Easter –
160 Just lost, when I was saved! Just felt the world go by! Just girt me for the onset with E… When breath blew back,
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
519 ’Twas warm—at first—like Us— Until there crept upon A Chill—like frost upon a Glass— Till all the scene—be gone.
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
