#AmericanWriters
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—
I dwell in Possibility – A fairer House than Prose – More numerous of Windows – Superior – for Doors – Of Chambers as the Cedars –
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.
537 Me prove it now—Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it—now— Make haste—the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity—
410 The first Day’s Night had come— And grateful that a thing So terrible—had been endured— I told my Soul to sing—
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.