#AmericanWriters
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard— Till morning touching mountain—
March is the Month of Expectation… The things we do not know - The Persons of prognostication Are coming now - We try to show becoming firmness -
XCIX THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry.
848 Just as He spoke it from his Hand… This Edifice remain— A Turret more, a Turret less Dishonor his Design—
779 The Service without Hope— Is tenderest, I think— Because ’tis unsustained By stint—Rewarded Work—
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—
620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—