#AmericanWriters
542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—
38 By such and such an offering To Mr. So and So, The web of live woven— So martyrs albums show!
636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
396 There is a Languor of the Life More imminent than Pain— ’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the S… Has suffered all it can—
213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?
550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
734 If He were living—dare I ask— And how if He be dead— And so around the Words I went— Of meeting them—afraid—
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.