#AmericanWriters
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
849 The good Will of a Flower The Man who would possess Must first present Certificate
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
I held a Jewel in my fingers’— And went to sleep’— The day was warm, and winds were p… I said 'Twill keep’— I woke’—and chid my honest fingers…
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend— Or the most agonizing Spy— An Enemy—could send— Secure against its own—
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
397 When Diamonds are a Legend, And Diadems—a Tale— I Brooch and Earrings for Myself… Do sow, and Raise for sale—
696 Their Height in Heaven comforts n… Their Glory—nought to me— ’Twas best imperfect—as it was— I’m finite—I can’t see—
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—