#AmericanWriters
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
988 The Definition of Beauty is That Definition is none— Of Heaven, easing Analysis, Since Heaven and He are one.
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.
35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
825 An Hour is a Sea Between a few, and me— With them would Harbor be—
748 Autumn—overlooked my Knitting— Dyes—said He—have I— Could disparage a Flamingo— Show Me them—said I—
649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday
665 Dropped into the Ether Acre— Wearing the Sod Gown— Bonnet of Everlasting Laces— Brooch—frozen on—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—