#AmericanWriters
Pain—has an Element of Blank— It cannot recollect When it begun—or if there were A time when it was not— It has no Future—but itself—
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
XVII SHE rose to his requirement, drop… The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
LXVII A DEED knocks first at thought, And then it knocks at will. That is the manufacturing spot, And will at home and well.
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
843 I made slow Riches but my Gain Was steady as the Sun And every Night, it numbered more Than the preceding One
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
160 Just lost, when I was saved! Just felt the world go by! Just girt me for the onset with E… When breath blew back,
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
329 So glad we are’—a Stranger’d deem ’Twas sorry, that we were’— For where the Holiday should be There publishes a Tear’—