#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,
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
Part One: Life XXXV I CAN wade grief, Whole pools of it,— I ’m used to that.
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
LV I envy seas whereon he rides, I envy spokes of wheels Of chariots that him convey, I envy speechless hills
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
452 The Malay—took the Pearl— Not—I—the Earl— I—feared the Sea—too much Unsanctified—to touch—
623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—