#AmericanWriters
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
423 The Months have ends—the Years—a… No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery—
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
183 I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometim… In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said— Yet held my breath, the while—
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
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…
528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
638 To my small Hearth His fire came— And all my House aglow Did fan and rock, with sudden ligh… ’Twas Sunrise—'twas the Sky—
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
116 I had some things that I called m… And God, that he called his, Till, recently a rival Claim Disturbed these amities.
443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale