#AmericanWriters
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—
606 The Trees like Tassels—hit—and sw… There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun—
569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
325 Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White— The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Ran… Of Victors—designate—
604 Unto my Books’—so good to turn’— Far ends of tired Days’— It half endears the Abstinence’— And Pain’—is missed’—in Praise’—
Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,
941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
118 My friend attacks my friend! Oh Battle picturesque! Then I turn Soldier too, And he turns Satirist!
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,