#AmericanWriters
515 No Crowd that has occurred Exhibit—I suppose That General Attendance That Resurrection—does—
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
474 They put Us far apart— As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula— We signified “These see”—
17 Baffled for just a day or two— Embarrassed—not afraid— Encounter in my garden An unexpected Maid.
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—