#AmericanWriters
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
179 If I could bribe them by a Rose I’d bring them every flower that g… From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or sto…
256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…
824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…
663 Again—his voice is at the door— I feel the old Degree— I hear him ask the servant For such an one—as me—
The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ‘T were easier for you To put the water back
445 ’Twas just this time, last year,… I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms— It had the Tassels on—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
773 Deprived of other Banquet, I entertained Myself— At first—a scant nutrition— An insufficient Loaf—
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—