#AmericanWriters
The Butterfly upon the Sky, That doesn’t know its Name And hasn’t any tax to pay And hasn’t any Home Is just as high as you and I,
VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
920 We can but follow to the Sun— As oft as He go down He leave Ourselves a Sphere behin… ’Tis mostly—following—
XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!
381 A Secret told— Ceases to be a Secret—then— A Secret—kept— That—can appal but One—
673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…
786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—
932 My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word— The Stars that stated come to Tow… Esteemed Me never rude
378 I saw no Way—The Heavens were st… I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemisphere… I touched the Universe—
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—