#AmericanWriters
100 A science—so the Savants say, “Comparative Anatomy”— By which a single bone— Is made a secret to unfold
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
835 Nature and God—I neither knew Yet Both so well knew me They startled, like Executors Of My identity.
142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.
392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
492 Civilization—spurns—the Leopard! Was the Leopard—bold? Deserts—never rebuked her Satin— Ethiop—her Gold—
268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,
