#AmericanWriters
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect
155 The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft—yieldeth me— If any ask me why— ’Twere easier to die—
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life— Poured thee, without a stint—
“Speech”'—is a prank of Parliamen… “Tears”'—is a trick of the nerve’— But the Heart with the heaviest f… Doesn’t’—always’—move’—
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—