#AmericanWriters
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
970 Color — Caste — Denomination — These — are Time's Affair — Death's diviner Classifying Does not know they are —
306 The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her—alone— When friend—and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn—
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
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
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…
He ate and drank the precious Wor… His Spirit grew robust— He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was Dust— He danced along the dingy Days
645 Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen— A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs—between—
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.