#AmericanWriters
570 I could die’—to know’— ’Tis a trifling knowledge’— News-Boys salute the Door’— Carts’—joggle by’—
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
965 Denial—is the only fact Perceived by the Denied— Whose Will—a numb significance— The Day the Heaven died—
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—