#AmericanWriters
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
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—
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil
105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
103 I have a King, who does not speak… So—wondering—thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away— Half glad when it is night, and sl…
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,