#AmericanWriters
XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.
LXVII A DEED knocks first at thought, And then it knocks at will. That is the manufacturing spot, And will at home and well.
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
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,
669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—