#AmericanWriters
DEAR March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat— You must have walked—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
276 Many a phrase has the English lan… I have heard but one— Low as the laughter of the Cricke… Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue—
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
646 I think to Live—may be a Bliss To those who dare to try— Beyond my limit to conceive— My lip—to testify—
52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
These Fevered Days—to take them t… Where Waters cool around the moss… And shade is all that devastates t… Seems it sometimes this would be a…
979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone—
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
This quiet dust was gentlemen and… And lads and girls; Was laughter and ability and sighi… And frocks and curls; This passive place a summer’s nimb…
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds