#AmericanWriters
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
LXVII Presentment is that long shadow on… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
438 Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget she wore it at her Heart Because she breathed against Was Treason twixt?
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
143 For every Bird a Nest— Wherefore in timid quest Some little Wren goes seeking rou… Wherefore when boughs are free—
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me– The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality. We slowly drove– He knew no haste
365 Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore
We don’t cry—Tim and I, We are far too grand— But we bolt the door tight To prevent a friend— Then we hide our brave face
625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time