#AmericanWriters
657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
512 The Soul has Bandaged moments— When too appalled to stir— She feels some ghastly Fright com… And stop to look at her—
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
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,
799 Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering—Despair— To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore—
956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.