#AmericanWriters
577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—
160 Just lost, when I was saved! Just felt the world go by! Just girt me for the onset with E… When breath blew back,
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
79 Going to Heaven! I don’t know when— Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished
Before you thought of spring, Except as a surmise, You see, God bless his suddenness… A fellow in the skies Of independent hues,
VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
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…
468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—