#AmericanWriters
When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee - When a Lover is an Owner Different is he - What he begged is then the Beggar…
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
107 ’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away!
The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
424 Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days— Myself had just to earn—
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.