#AmericanWriters
970 Color — Caste — Denomination — These — are Time's Affair — Death's diviner Classifying Does not know they are —
55 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted— Which blossom in the dark.
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow
A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory! From marshallings as simple
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
753 My Soul—accused me—And I quailed… As Tongue of Diamond had reviled All else accused me—and I smiled— My Soul—that Morning—was My frie…
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!
356 The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days— Until the Coronation came— And then—'twas Otherwise—
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!