#AmericanWriters
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
652 A Prison gets to be a friend— Between its Ponderous face And Ours—a Kinsmanship express— And in its narrow Eyes—
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east
86 South Winds jostle them— Bumblebees come— Hover—hesitate— Dri nk, and are gone—
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
XVII SHE rose to his requirement, drop… The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve—
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
XXXI I FOUND the phrase to every tho… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun