#AmericanWriters
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
926 Patience’—has a quiet Outer’— Patience’—Look within’— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites’—between’—
If ever the lid gets off my head And lets the brain away The fellow will go where he belong… Without a hint from me, And the world– if the world be lo…
773 Deprived of other Banquet, I entertained Myself— At first—a scant nutrition— An insufficient Loaf—
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation
582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—
657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
457 Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—House… Sealed so stately tight— Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble— Locking Bare feet out—
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
