#AmericanWriters
430 It would never be Common — more —… Difference — had begun — Many a bitterness — had been — But that old sort — was done —
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
93 Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravoes The bystanders will tell!
648 Promise This—When You be Dying— Some shall summon Me— Mine belong Your latest Sighing— Mine—to Belt Your Eye—
546 To fill a Gap Insert the Thing that caused it— Block it up With Other—and 'twill yawn the mo…
388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen
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.
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
103 I have a King, who does not speak… So—wondering—thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away— Half glad when it is night, and sl…
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.