#AmericanWriters
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
72 Glowing is her Bonnet, Glowing is her Cheek, Glowing is her Kirtle, Yet she cannot speak.
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
136 Have you got a Brook in your litt… Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drin… And shadows tremble so—
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
643 I could suffice for Him, I knew— He—could suffice for Me— Yet Hesitating Fractions—Both Surveyed Infinity—
A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.
873 Ribbons of the Year— Multitude Brocade— Worn to Nature’s Party once Then, as flung aside
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,