#AmericanWriters
321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
861 Split the Lark—and you’ll find th… Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled… Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor… Saved for your Ear when Lutes be…
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!
70 “Arcturus” is his other name— I’d rather call him “Star.” It’s very mean of Science To go and interfere!
892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—
876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.
102 Great Caesar! Condescend The Daisy, to receive, Gathered by Cato’s Daughter, With your majestic leave!