#AmericanWriters
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
504 You know that Portrait in the Moo… So tell me who ’tis like— The very Brow—the stooping eyes— A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
316 The Wind didn’t come from the Orc… Further than that— Nor stop to play with the Hay— Nor joggle a Hat—
58 Delayed till she had ceased to kno… Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay— An hour behind the fleeting breath…
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—
The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars
