#AmericanWriters
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
116 I had some things that I called m… And God, that he called his, Till, recently a rival Claim Disturbed these amities.
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
188 Make me a picture of the sun— So I can hang it in my room— And make believe I’m getting warm When others call it “Day”!
523 Sweet — You forgot — but I rememb… Every time — for Two — So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You —
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—
My Garden’—like the Beach’— Denotes there be’—a Sea’— That’s Summer’— Such as These’—the Pearls She fetches’—such as Me
17 Baffled for just a day or two— Embarrassed—not afraid— Encounter in my garden An unexpected Maid.