#AmericanWriters
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
833 Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ—stooped until He touched t… Do those at Sacrament
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
193 I shall know why — when Time is o… And I have ceased to wonder why — Christ will explain each separate… In the fair schoolroom of the sky…
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.