#AmericanWriters
There cam a Wind like a Bugle - It quivered through the Grass And a Green Chill upon the Heat So ominous did pass We barred the Windows and the Doo…
466 ’Tis little I—could care for Pear… Who own the ample sea— Or Brooches—when the Emperor— With Rubies—pelteth me—
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
XCVI MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me,
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
865 He outstripped Time with but a Bo… He outstripped Stars and Sun And then, unjaded, challenged God In presence of the Throne.
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
‘They have not chosen me,’ he said… ‘But I have chosen them!’ Brave’—Broken hearted statement’— Uttered in Bethlehem! I could not have told it,
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
