#AmericanWriters
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
Tell all the truth but tell it sla… Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth’s superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
825 An Hour is a Sea Between a few, and me— With them would Harbor be—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!