#AmericanWriters
It sounded as if the Streets were… And then– the Streets stood stil… Eclipse - was all we could see at… And Awe - was all we could feel. By and by - the boldest stole out…
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
The Devil—had he fidelity Would be the best friend— Because he has ability— But Devils cannot mend— Perfidy is the virtue
239 “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me!
LXXXV A LIGHT exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
96 Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here… Pray lead me to his bed! I came to build the Bird’s nest, And sow the Early seed—
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…