#AmericanWriters
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation
207 Tho’ I get home how late’—how lat… So I get home - 'twill compensate… Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me’—
112 Where bells no more affright the m… Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms—
355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—
III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.
169 In Ebon Box, when years have flow… To reverently peer, Wiping away the velvet dust Summers have sprinkled there!
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—
375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—