#AmericanWriters
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
115 What Inn is this Where for the night Peculiar Traveller comes? Who is the Landlord?
915 Faith’—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not’— Too slender for the eye
966 All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One— All forsook, for just a Stranger’… New Accompanying—
As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—
234 You’re right—“the way is narrow”— And “difficult the Gate”— And “few there be”—Correct again— That “enter in—thereat”—
909 I make His Crescent fill or lack— His Nature is at Full Or Quarter—as I signify— His Tides—do I control—
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away! ’Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—