#AmericanWriters
292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve—
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
842 Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound—
130 These are the days when Birds com… A very few—a Bird or two— To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resu…
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
942 Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Wint… I admonish Thee
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—
The Butterfly upon the Sky, That doesn’t know its Name And hasn’t any tax to pay And hasn’t any Home Is just as high as you and I,
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
Why – do they shut Me out of Heav… Did I sing – too loud? But – I can say a little “minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me –
720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—