#AmericanWriters
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
823 Not that We did, shall be the tes… When Act and Will are done But what Our Lord infers We woul… Had We diviner been—
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
379 Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight— Affords a Bliss like Murder— Omnipotent—Acute—
859 A doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
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—
64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
XCVI MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me,
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
251 Over the fence— Strawberries—grow— Over the fence— I could climb—if I tried, I know—
Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology