#AmericanWriters
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
574 My first well Day — since many il… I asked to go abroad, And take the Sunshine in my hands… And see the things in Pod —
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
690 Victory comes late— And is held low to freezing lips— Too rapt with frost To take it—