#AmericanWriters
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—
68 Ambition cannot find him. Affection doesn’t know How many leagues of nowhere Lie between them now.
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers— Untouched by Morning— and untouched by noon— Sleep the meek members of the Res… Rafter of Satin and Roof of Ston…
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
This quiet dust was gentlemen and… And lads and girls; Was laughter and ability and sighi… And frocks and curls; This passive place a summer’s nimb…
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
183 I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometim… In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said— Yet held my breath, the while—