#AmericanWriters
422 More Life—went out—when He went Than Ordinary Breath— Lit with a finer Phosphor— Requiring in the Quench—
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
475 Doom is the House without the Doo… ’Tis entered from the Sun— And then the Ladder’s thrown away… Because Escape—is done—
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
XX ARCTURUS is his other name,— I ’d rather call him star! It ’s so unkind of science To go and interfere!
“Unto Me?” I do not know you’— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus’—Late of Judea’— Now’—of Paradise"'— Wagons’—have you’—to convey me?
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—
977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair
Tell all the truth but tell it sla… Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth’s superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased
My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be