#AmericanWriters
977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
LXVII Presentment is that long shadow on… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—
592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
594 The Battle fought between the Sou… And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One—