#AmericanWriters
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
637 The Child’s faith is new— Whole—like His Principle— Wide—like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes—
Of Brussels—it was not— Of Kidderminster? Nay— The Winds did buy it of the Woods… They—sold it unto me It was a gentle price—
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee - When a Lover is an Owner Different is he - What he begged is then the Beggar…
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow
332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed