#AmericanWriters
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
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
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—
734 If He were living—dare I ask— And how if He be dead— And so around the Words I went— Of meeting them—afraid—
XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!