#AmericanWriters
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—
284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—
My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
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
282 How noteless Men, and Pleiads, st… Until a sudden sky Reveals the fact that One is rapt Forever from the Eye—
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…
Of Brussels—it was not— Of Kidderminster? Nay— The Winds did buy it of the Woods… They—sold it unto me It was a gentle price—
Growth of Man—like Growth of Nat… Gravitates within— Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it— Bit it stir—alone— Each—its difficult Ideal
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—