#AmericanWriters
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—
434 To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear,
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
152 The Sun kept stooping—stooping—lo… The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose!
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
XLVII HEART, we will forget him! You and I, to—night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
370 Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved— The Site—of it—by Architect Could not again be proved—
757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
405 It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness— I’m so accustomed to my Fate— Perhaps the Other—Peace—
949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,