#AmericanWriters
Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.
Is it too late to touch you, Dear… We this moment knew - Love Marine and Love terrene - Love celestial too -
992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—
960 As plan for Noon and plan for Nig… So differ Life and Death In positive Prospective— The Foot upon the Earth
Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart - Oh Shadow on the Grass
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—
Before you thought of spring, Except as a surmise, You see, God bless his suddenness… A fellow in the skies Of independent hues,
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
749 All but Death, can be Adjusted— Dynasties repaired— Systems—settled in their Sockets— Citadels—dissolved—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—