#AmericanWriters
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
751 My Worthiness is all my Doubt— His Merit—all my fear— Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier—appear—
460 I know where Wells grow’—Droughtl… Deep dug’—for Summer days’— Where Mosses go no more away’— And Pebble’—safely plays’—
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—
329 So glad we are’—a Stranger’d deem ’Twas sorry, that we were’— For where the Holiday should be There publishes a Tear’—
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
40 When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye— When I con the people