#AmericanWriters
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
96 Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here… Pray lead me to his bed! I came to build the Bird’s nest, And sow the Early seed—
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
73 Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind!
348 I would not paint — a picture — I'd rather be the One It's bright impossibility To dwell — delicious — on —
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.