#AmericanWriters
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—
Presentiment is that long shadow o… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
381 A Secret told— Ceases to be a Secret—then— A Secret—kept— That—can appal but One—
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—