#AmericanWriters
458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
546 To fill a Gap Insert the Thing that caused it— Block it up With Other—and 'twill yawn the mo…
936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—
621 I asked no other thing— No other—was denied— I offered Being—for it— The Mighty Merchant sneered—
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
425 Good Morning’—Midnight’— I’m coming Home’— Day’—got tired of Me’— How could I’—of Him?
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
XXVIII A CHARM invests a face Imperfectly beheld,— The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled.
We don’t cry—Tim and I, We are far too grand— But we bolt the door tight To prevent a friend— Then we hide our brave face
XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil
The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
31 Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole—are done!
