#AmericanWriters
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.
396 There is a Languor of the Life More imminent than Pain— ’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the S… Has suffered all it can—
674 The Soul that hath a Guest Doth seldom go abroad— Diviner Crowd at Home— Obliterate the need—
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
“Unto Me?” I do not know you’— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus’—Late of Judea’— Now’—of Paradise"'— Wagons’—have you’—to convey me?
Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—