#AmericanWriters
198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselv… And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
509 If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive… At such and such a time—
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
Warm in her Hand these accents li… While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake Its fond subjection wear -
A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad
XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…