#AmericanWriters
She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,
“Why do I love” You, Sir? Because’— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer’—Wherefore when He pass She cannot keep Her place.
621 I asked no other thing— No other—was denied— I offered Being—for it— The Mighty Merchant sneered—
489 We pray—to Heaven— We prate—of Heaven— Relate—when Neighbors die— At what o’clock to heaven—they fle…
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday
104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—
472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—
485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—