#AmericanWriters
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
457 Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—House… Sealed so stately tight— Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble— Locking Bare feet out—
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
823 Not that We did, shall be the tes… When Act and Will are done But what Our Lord infers We woul… Had We diviner been—
477 No Man can compass a Despair— As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed—
The Grass so little has to do ' A Sphere of simple Green ' With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain ' And stir all day to pretty Tunes
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow
895 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–