#AmericanWriters
Let me not mar that perfect Dream By an Auroral stain But so adjust my daily Night That it will come again. Not when we know, the Power accos…
949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,
Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
438 Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget she wore it at her Heart Because she breathed against Was Treason twixt?