#AmericanWriters
Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
Is it too late to touch you, Dear… We this moment knew - Love Marine and Love terrene - Love celestial too -
I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day
How lonesome the Wind must feel N… When people have put out the Ligh… And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in— How pompous the Wind must feel No…
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–
285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
FATE slew him, but he did not dr… She felled’—he did not fall’— Impaled him on her fiercest stakes… He neutralized them all. She stung him, sapped his firm adv…
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.