#AmericanWriters
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
939 What I see not, I better see— Through Faith—my Hazel Eye Has periods of shutting— But, No lid has Memory—
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
He preached upon ‘Breadth’ till i… The Broad are too broad to define And of ‘Truth’ until it proclaime… The Truth never flaunted a Sign— Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
424 Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days— Myself had just to earn—
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
348 I would not paint — a picture — I'd rather be the One It's bright impossibility To dwell — delicious — on —
956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?
395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity