#AmericanWriters
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
456 So well that I can live without— I love thee—then How well is that… As well as Jesus? Prove it me
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…
780 The Truth — is stirless — Other force — may be presumed to m… This — then — is best for confiden… When oldest Cedars swerve —
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—