#AmericanWriters
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…
286 That after Horror — that ’twas us… That passed the mouldering Pier — Just as the Granite Crumb let go… Our Savior, by a Hair —
XLVIII THOUGH I get home how late, how… So I get home, ’t will compensate… Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me,
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
932 My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word— The Stars that stated come to Tow… Esteemed Me never rude
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us
908 ’Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast T… No Station in the Day? ’Twas not thy wont, to hinder so— Retrieve thine industry—
I held a Jewel in my fingers’— And went to sleep’— The day was warm, and winds were p… I said 'Twill keep’— I woke’—and chid my honest fingers…
983 Ideals are the Fairly Oil With which we help the Wheel But when the Vital Axle turns The Eye rejects the Oil.