#AmericanWriters
Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—
199 I’m “wife”'—I’ve finished that’— That other state’— I’m Czar’—I’m “Woman” now’— It’s safer so’—
925 Struck, was I, not yet by Lightni… Lightning—lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality.
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away