#AmericanWriters
30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—
411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
691 Would you like summer? Taste of o… Spices? Buy here! Ill! We have berries, for the par… Weary! Furloughs of down!
315 He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on— He stuns you by degrees—
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different
500 Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel— Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill—
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.