#AmericanWriters
648 Promise This—When You be Dying— Some shall summon Me— Mine belong Your latest Sighing— Mine—to Belt Your Eye—
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
103 I have a King, who does not speak… So—wondering—thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away— Half glad when it is night, and sl…
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
LXXXV A LIGHT exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here
310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
500 Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel— Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill—
LXXXIII This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond — Invisible, as Music — But positive, as Sound —
394 ’Twas Love’—not me’— Oh punish’—pray’— The Real one died for Thee’— Just Him’—not me’—
1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—