#AmericanWriters
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
434 To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear,