#AmericanWriters
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June
244 It is easy to work when the soul i… But when the soul is in pain— The hearing him put his playthings… Makes work difficult—then—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
My life closed twice before its cl… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.