#AmericanWriters
557 She hideth Her the last— And is the first, to rise— Her Night doth hardly recompense The Closing of Her eyes—
663 Again—his voice is at the door— I feel the old Degree— I hear him ask the servant For such an one—as me—
LXXXV A LIGHT exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
189 It’s such a little thing to weep— So short a thing to sigh— And yet—by Trades—the size of the… We men and women die!
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet— He—waking—finds the flower there—
217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?
823 Not that We did, shall be the tes… When Act and Will are done But what Our Lord infers We woul… Had We diviner been—
531 We dream—it is good we are dreamin… It would hurt us—were we awake— But since it is playing—kill us, And we are playing—shriek—
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
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
997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
570 I could die’—to know’— ’Tis a trifling knowledge’— News-Boys salute the Door’— Carts’—joggle by’—