#AmericanWriters
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
58 Delayed till she had ceased to kno… Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay— An hour behind the fleeting breath…
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
422 More Life—went out—when He went Than Ordinary Breath— Lit with a finer Phosphor— Requiring in the Quench—
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?
The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—
Growth of Man—like Growth of Nat… Gravitates within— Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it— Bit it stir—alone— Each—its difficult Ideal
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on.
508 I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Thei… The name They dropped upon my fac… With water, in the country church Is finished using, now,
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—