#AmericanWriters
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
The Butterfly upon the Sky, That doesn’t know its Name And hasn’t any tax to pay And hasn’t any Home Is just as high as you and I,
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
205 I should not dare to leave my frie… Because—because if he should die While I was gone—and I—too late— Should reach the Heart that wante…
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age
How lonesome the Wind must feel N… When people have put out the Ligh… And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in— How pompous the Wind must feel No…
392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—