#AmericanWriters
Presentiment is that long shadow o… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die
283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
825 An Hour is a Sea Between a few, and me— With them would Harbor be—
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
457 Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—House… Sealed so stately tight— Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble— Locking Bare feet out—
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
637 The Child’s faith is new— Whole—like His Principle— Wide—like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes—
371 A precious’—mouldering pleasure’—'… To meet an Antique Book’— In just the Dress his Century wor… A privilege’—I think’—
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -