#AmericanWriters
LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.
223 I Came to buy a smile—today— But just a single smile— The smallest one upon your face Will suit me just as well—
417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
637 The Child’s faith is new— Whole—like His Principle— Wide—like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes—
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—
555 Trust in the Unexpected— By this—was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold— As One had testified—
833 Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ—stooped until He touched t… Do those at Sacrament
My life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—