#AmericanWriters
When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee - When a Lover is an Owner Different is he - What he begged is then the Beggar…
861 Split the Lark—and you’ll find th… Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled… Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor… Saved for your Ear when Lutes be…
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
504 You know that Portrait in the Moo… So tell me who ’tis like— The very Brow—the stooping eyes— A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;