#AmericanWriters
557 She hideth Her the last— And is the first, to rise— Her Night doth hardly recompense The Closing of Her eyes—
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
817 Given in Marriage unto Thee Oh thou Celestial Host— Bride of the Father and the Son Bride of the Holy Ghost.
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
762 The Whole of it came not at once— ’Twas Murder by degrees— A Thrust—and then for Life a chan… The Bliss to cauterize—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
538 ’Tis true—They shut me in the Col… But then—Themselves were warm And could not know the feeling ’tw… Forget it—Lord—of Them—