#AmericanWriters
XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
XLVI A THOUGHT went up my mind to—d… That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year,
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
932 My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word— The Stars that stated come to Tow… Esteemed Me never rude
12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.
454 It was given to me by the Gods— When I was a little Girl— They given us Presents most—you k… When we are new—and small.
490 To One denied the drink To tell what Water is Would be acuter, would it not Than letting Him surmise?