#AmericanWriters
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?
XXVII BECAUSE I could not stop for D… He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality.
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
780 The Truth — is stirless — Other force — may be presumed to m… This — then — is best for confiden… When oldest Cedars swerve —
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
633 When Bells stop ringing—Church—be… The Positive—of Bells— When Cogs—stop—that's Circumferen… The Ultimate—of Wheels.
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,