#AmericanWriters
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
371 A precious’—mouldering pleasure’—'… To meet an Antique Book’— In just the Dress his Century wor… A privilege’—I think’—
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
696 Their Height in Heaven comforts n… Their Glory—nought to me— ’Twas best imperfect—as it was— I’m finite—I can’t see—
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,
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.