#AmericanWriters
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
This quiet dust was gentlemen and… And lads and girls; Was laughter and ability and sighi… And frocks and curls; This passive place a summer’s nimb…
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
393 Did Our Best Moment last— ‘Twould supersede the Heaven— A few—and they by Risk—procure— So this Sort—are not given—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.
966 All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One— All forsook, for just a Stranger’… New Accompanying—
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
Some keep the Sabbath going to Ch… I keep it, staying at Home— With a Bobolink for a Chorister— And an Orchard, for a Dome— Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice…