#AmericanWriters
The wind tapped like a tired man, And like a host, ‘Come in,’ I boldly answered; entered then My residence within A rapid, footless guest,
My life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…
Warm in her Hand these accents li… While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake Its fond subjection wear -
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
The grave my little cottage is, Where 'Keeping house’ for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly,
She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,
963 A nearness to Tremendousness— An Agony procures— Affliction ranges Boundlessness— Vicinity to Laws
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
Like trains of cars on tracks of p… I hear the level bee: A jar across the flowers goes, Their velvet masonry Withstands until the sweet assault
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
326 I cannot dance upon my Toes’— No Man instructed me’— But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me,
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
