#AmericanWriters
468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue
888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—
I many times thought Peace had co… When Peace was far away’— As Wrecked Men’—deem they sight t… At Centre of the Sea’— And struggle slacker’—but to prove
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
65 I can’t tell you—but you feel it— Nor can you tell me— Saints, with ravished slate and pe… Solve our April Day!
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day