#AmericanWriters
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—
915 Faith’—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not’— Too slender for the eye
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
71 A throe upon the features— A hurry in the breath— An ecstasy of parting Denominated “Death”—
The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—
I breathed enough to learn the tri… And now, removed from air, I simulate the breath so well, That one, to be quite sure The lungs are stirless, must desce…
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…