#AmericanWriters
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
277 What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate— And pass escaped—to thee! What if I file this Mortal—off—
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
226 Should you but fail at—Sea— In sight of me— Or doomed lie— Next Sun—to die—
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid