#AmericanWriters
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
578 The Body grows without— The more convenient way— That if the Spirit—like to hide Its Temple stands, alway,
59 A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard—
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat