#AmericanWriters
To the bright east she flies, Brothers of Paradise Remit her home, Without a change of wings, Or Love’s convenient things,
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain
340 Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
His voice decrepit was with Joy - Her words did totter so How old the News of Love must be To make Lips elderly That purled a moment since with G…
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
402 I pay—in Satin Cash— You did not state—your price— A Petal, for a Paragraph It near as I can guess—
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.