#AmericanWriters
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
HE preached upon “breadth” till i… The broad are too broad to define: And of “truth” until it proclaimed… The truth never flaunted a sign. Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude
512 The Soul has Bandaged moments— When too appalled to stir— She feels some ghastly Fright com… And stop to look at her—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away