#AmericanWriters
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
XLVII HEART, we will forget him! You and I, to—night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—
985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
Departed to the judgment, A mighty afternoon; Great clouds like ushers leaning, Creation looking on. The flesh surrendered, cancelled
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—