#AmericanWriters
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
604 Unto my Books’—so good to turn’— Far ends of tired Days’— It half endears the Abstinence’— And Pain’—is missed’—in Praise’—
1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
370 Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved— The Site—of it—by Architect Could not again be proved—