#AmericanWriters
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
665 Dropped into the Ether Acre— Wearing the Sod Gown— Bonnet of Everlasting Laces— Brooch—frozen on—
270 One Life of so much Consequence! Yet I—for it—would pay— My Soul’s entire income— In ceaseless—salary—
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
638 To my small Hearth His fire came— And all my House aglow Did fan and rock, with sudden ligh… ’Twas Sunrise—'twas the Sky—
617 Don’t put up my Thread and Needle… I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle— Better Stitches—so—
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
227 Teach Him – When He makes the na… Such an one – to say – On his babbling – Berry – lips – As should sound – to me –
The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -
