#AmericanWriters
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
“Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the Worl…
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…
569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
423 The Months have ends—the Years—a… No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery—
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…