#AmericanWriters
655 Without this—there is nought— All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird— Heard opposite the Sea—
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
277 What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate— And pass escaped—to thee! What if I file this Mortal—off—
Why – do they shut Me out of Heav… Did I sing – too loud? But – I can say a little “minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me –
HE preached upon “breadth” till i… The broad are too broad to define: And of “truth” until it proclaimed… The truth never flaunted a sign. Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.
The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue… The letting go A Presence—for an Expectation— Not now— The putting out of Eyes—
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
112 Where bells no more affright the m… Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms—
425 Good Morning’—Midnight’— I’m coming Home’— Day’—got tired of Me’— How could I’—of Him?
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
