#AmericanWriters
881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…
699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—
310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—
A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day