#AmericanWriters
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
Warm in her Hand these accents li… While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake Its fond subjection wear -
707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—
758 These’—saw Visions’— Latch them softly’— These’—held Dimples’— Smooth them slow’—
787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—
88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—
530 You cannot put a Fire out— A Thing that can ignite Can go, itself, without a Fan— Upon the slowest Night—
81 We should not mind so small a flow… Except it quiet bring Our little garden that we lost Back to the Lawn again.
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
553 One Crucifixion is recorded’—only… How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics’— Or History’—