#AmericanWriters
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
Could Hope inspect her Basis Her Craft were done - Has a fictitious Charter Or it has none - Balked in the vastest instance
1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—
We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step
598 Three times—we parted—Breath—and… Three times—He would not go— But strove to stir the lifeless F… The Waters—strove to stay.
343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—