#AmericanWriters
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—
371 A precious’—mouldering pleasure’—'… To meet an Antique Book’— In just the Dress his Century wor… A privilege’—I think’—
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
430 It would never be Common — more —… Difference — had begun — Many a bitterness — had been — But that old sort — was done —
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
262 The lonesome for they know not Wh… The Eastern Exiles—be— Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday—
358 If any sink, assure that this, now… Failed like Themselves—and consci… Grew by the Fact, and not the Und… How Weakness passed—or Force—aros…
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
308 I send Two Sunsets— Day and I—in competition ran— I finished Two—and several Stars— While He—was making One—
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv… My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the fea…