#AmericanWriters
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw
237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
848 Just as He spoke it from his Hand… This Edifice remain— A Turret more, a Turret less Dishonor his Design—
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
327 Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see— As other Creatures, that have Eye… And know no other way—