#AmericanWriters
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—
127 “Houses”—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
799 Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering—Despair— To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore—
887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
A Pang is more conspicuous in Spr… In contrast with the things that s… Not Birds entirely– but Minds – Minute Effulgencies and Winds - When what they sung for is undone
Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird —reach it! Curve by Curve —Sweep by Sweep — Round the Steep Air — Danger! What is that to Her?
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
Death is like the insect Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it, But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,
848 Just as He spoke it from his Hand… This Edifice remain— A Turret more, a Turret less Dishonor his Design—
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed
The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
