#AmericanWriters
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
861 Split the Lark—and you’ll find th… Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled… Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor… Saved for your Ear when Lutes be…
724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—
990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—
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—
347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—
Death is like the insect Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it, But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,
59 A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard—
227 Teach Him’—When He makes the nam… Such an one’—to say’— On his babbling’—Berry’—lips’— As should sound’—to me’—
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—