#AmericanWriters
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
96 Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here… Pray lead me to his bed! I came to build the Bird’s nest, And sow the Early seed—
400 A Tongue’—to tell Him I am true! Its fee’—to be of Gold’— Had Nature’—in Her monstrous Hou… A single Ragged Child’—
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—
9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—