#AmericanWriters
375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
201 Two swimmers wrestled on the spar— Until the morning sun— When One—turned smiling to the la… Oh God! the Other One!
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue
669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
492 Civilization—spurns—the Leopard! Was the Leopard—bold? Deserts—never rebuked her Satin— Ethiop—her Gold—
319 Of Bronze — and Blaze — The North — tonight — So adequate — it forms — So preconcerted with itself —
347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—