#AmericanWriters
144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.
March is the Month of Expectation… The things we do not know - The Persons of prognostication Are coming now - We try to show becoming firmness -
XLVI A THOUGHT went up my mind to—d… That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year,
338 I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.
156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
309 For largest Woman’s Hearth I kne… ’Tis little I can do— And yet the largest Woman’s Heart Could hold an Arrow—too—
592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
646 I think to Live—may be a Bliss To those who dare to try— Beyond my limit to conceive— My lip—to testify—