#AmericanWriters
430 It would never be Common — more —… Difference — had begun — Many a bitterness — had been — But that old sort — was done —
476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
926 Patience’—has a quiet Outer’— Patience’—Look within’— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites’—between’—
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
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—
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
“Houses”'—so the Wise Men tell me… Houses—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
873 Ribbons of the Year— Multitude Brocade— Worn to Nature’s Party once Then, as flung aside