#AmericanWriters
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step
557 She hideth Her the last— And is the first, to rise— Her Night doth hardly recompense The Closing of Her eyes—
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,