#AmericanWriters
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
72 Glowing is her Bonnet, Glowing is her Cheek, Glowing is her Kirtle, Yet she cannot speak.
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.