#AmericanWriters
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I’ve heard the Hunter tell— ’Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still!
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—