#AmericanWriters
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—
144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
