#AmericanWriters
853 When One has given up One’s life The parting with the rest Feels easy, as when Day lets go Entirely the West
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
753 My Soul—accused me—And I quailed… As Tongue of Diamond had reviled All else accused me—and I smiled— My Soul—that Morning—was My frie…
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
XX ARCTURUS is his other name,— I ’d rather call him star! It ’s so unkind of science To go and interfere!
88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.