#AmericanWriters
“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
677 To be alive’—is Power’— Existence’—in itself’— Without a further function’— Omnipotence’—Enough’—
232 The Sun’—just touched the Morning… The Morning’—Happy thing’— Supposed that He had come to dwel… And Life would all be Spring!
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
“Houses”'—so the Wise Men tell me… Houses—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
762 The Whole of it came not at once— ’Twas Murder by degrees— A Thrust—and then for Life a chan… The Bliss to cauterize—
It sounded as if the Streets were… And then– the Streets stood stil… Eclipse - was all we could see at… And Awe - was all we could feel. By and by - the boldest stole out…
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
309 For largest Woman’s Hearth I kne… ’Tis little I can do— And yet the largest Woman’s Heart Could hold an Arrow—too—
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
752 So the Eyes accost’—and sunder In an Audience’— Stamped’—occasionally’—forever’— So may Countenance
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.