#AmericanWriters
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
‘Faithful to the end’ Amended From the Heavenly Clause - Constancy with a Proviso Constancy abhors - ‘Crowns of Life’ are servile Priz…
503 Better—than Music! For I—who hea… I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—’Twas Translat… Of all tunes I knew—and more—
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
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—
923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day