#AmericanWriters
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
A Sickness of this World it most… When Best Men die. A Wishfulness their far Condition To occupy. A Chief indifference, as Foreign
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
DEAR March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat— You must have walked—
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
‘T was just this time last year I… I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,— It had the tassels on. I thought how yellow it would look
555 Trust in the Unexpected— By this—was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold— As One had testified—
A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa… Conscious—as old Napoleon,