#AmericanWriters
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
183 I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometim… In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said— Yet held my breath, the while—
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation
656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
379 Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight— Affords a Bliss like Murder— Omnipotent—Acute—
XIV I’M ceded, I ’ve stopped being th… The name they dropped upon my face With water, in the country church, Is finished using now,
822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
759 He fought like those Who’ve nough… Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use—
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—