#AmericanWriters
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
345 Funny’—to be a Century’— And see the People’—going by’— I’—should die of the Oddity’— But then’—I’m not so staid’—as He…
There is another Loneliness That many die without - Not want of friend occasions it Or circumstances of Lot But nature, sometimes, sometimes t…
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
531 We dream—it is good we are dreamin… It would hurt us—were we awake— But since it is playing—kill us, And we are playing—shriek—
179 If I could bribe them by a Rose I’d bring them every flower that g… From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or sto…
284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…
March is the Month of Expectation… The things we do not know - The Persons of prognostication Are coming now - We try to show becoming firmness -
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
277 What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate— And pass escaped—to thee! What if I file this Mortal—off—
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…