#AmericanWriters
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed
444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away! ’Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead