#AmericanWriters
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
422 More Life—went out—when He went Than Ordinary Breath— Lit with a finer Phosphor— Requiring in the Quench—
238 Kill your Balm’—and its Odors ble… Bare your Jessamine’—to the storm… And she will fling her maddest per… Haply’—your Summer night to Charm…
979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone—
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
A Sloop of Amber slips away Upon an Ether Sea, And wrecks in Peace a Purple Tar… The Son of Ecstasy -
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—