#AmericanWriters
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
270 One Life of so much Consequence! Yet I—for it—would pay— My Soul’s entire income— In ceaseless—salary—
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
866 Fame is the tine that Scholars le… Upon their Setting Names— The Iris not of Occident That disappears as comes—
165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I’ve heard the Hunter tell— ’Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still!
