#AmericanWriters
Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,
798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
266 This—is the land—the Sunset washe… These—are the Banks of the Yellow… Where it rose—or whither it rushes… These—are the Western Mystery!
872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
XVII SHE rose to his requirement, drop… The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
XCVI MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me,