#AmericanWriters
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…
460 I know where Wells grow’—Droughtl… Deep dug’—for Summer days’— Where Mosses go no more away’— And Pebble’—safely plays’—
180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
It's thoughts—and just One Heart— And Old Sunshine—about— Make frugal—Ones—Content— And two or three—for Company— Upon a Holiday—
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—
625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
653 Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens—upon—
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
