#AmericanWriters
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—
574 My first well Day — since many il… I asked to go abroad, And take the Sunshine in my hands… And see the things in Pod —
Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
The wind tapped like a tired man, And like a host, ‘Come in,’ I boldly answered; entered then My residence within A rapid, footless guest,
365 Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore
CXII I FELT a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it s… That sense was breaking through.
The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…
We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step
637 The Child’s faith is new— Whole—like His Principle— Wide—like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes—
344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—