#AmericanWriters
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—
To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
226 Should you but fail at—Sea— In sight of me— Or doomed lie— Next Sun—to die—
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said
443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—