#AmericanWriters
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
784 Bereaved of all, I went abroad— No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula— The Grave preceded me—
To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear
Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…
IF I can stop one heart from brea… I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching… Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin
913 And this of all my Hopes This, is the silent end Bountiful colored, my Morning ros… Early and sere, its end
108 Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit—Life!
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
483 A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe— And golden hang—while farther up— The Maker’s Ladders stop—
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!