#AmericanWriters
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—
667 Bloom upon the Mountain’—stated’— Blameless of a Name’— Efflorescence of a Sunset’— Reproduced’—the same’—
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
LXVII A DEED knocks first at thought, And then it knocks at will. That is the manufacturing spot, And will at home and well.
931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—
I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,
552 An ignorance a Sunset Confer upon the Eye— Of Territory—Color— Circumference&mda sh;Decay—
631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds
472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—
444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
