#AmericanWriters
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
The grave my little cottage is, Where 'Keeping house’ for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly,
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a str… Unwind the solemn twine, and tie m… Oh the Earth was made for lovers,… For sighing, and gentle whispering… All things do go a courting, in ea…
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
909 I make His Crescent fill or lack— His Nature is at Full Or Quarter—as I signify— His Tides—do I control—
Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.
645 Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen— A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs—between—