#AmericanWriters
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest
787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
939 What I see not, I better see— Through Faith—my Hazel Eye Has periods of shutting— But, No lid has Memory—
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—