#AmericanWriters
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
I see thee better—in the Dark— I do not need a Light— The Love of Thee—a Prism be— Excelling Violet— I see thee better for the Years
425 Good Morning’—Midnight’— I’m coming Home’— Day’—got tired of Me’— How could I’—of Him?
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—
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…
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a str… Unwind the solemn twine, and tie m… Oh the Earth was made for lovers,… For sighing, and gentle whispering… All things do go a courting, in ea…
240 Ah, Moon—and Star! You are very far— But were no one Farther than you—
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
653 Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens—upon—
12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.