#AmericanWriters
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
544 The Martyr Poets’—did not tell’— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate’—encourage Some…
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty
671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?