#AmericanWriters
675 Essential Oilsare wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Sunsalone It is the gift of Screws
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.
232 The Sun’—just touched the Morning… The Morning’—Happy thing’— Supposed that He had come to dwel… And Life would all be Spring!
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
674 The Soul that hath a Guest Doth seldom go abroad— Diviner Crowd at Home— Obliterate the need—
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day