#AmericanWriters
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
59 A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard—
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—
923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
991 She sped as Petals of a Rose Offended by the Wind— A frail Aristocrat of Time Indemnity to find—