#AmericanWriters
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
Like trains of cars on tracks of p… I hear the level bee: A jar across the flowers goes, Their velvet masonry Withstands until the sweet assault
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
734 If He were living—dare I ask— And how if He be dead— And so around the Words I went— Of meeting them—afraid—
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
621 I asked no other thing— No other—was denied— I offered Being—for it— The Mighty Merchant sneered—
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
96 Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here… Pray lead me to his bed! I came to build the Bird’s nest, And sow the Early seed—
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
42 A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory!