#AmericanWriters
625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
Yesterday is History, ’Tis so far away - Yesterday is Poetry - ’Tis Philosophy - Yesterday is mystery -
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
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
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
To my quick ear the leaves conferr… The bushes they were bells; I could not find a privacy From Nature’s sentinels. In cave if I presumed to hide,
326 I cannot dance upon my Toes’— No Man instructed me’— But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me,
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.