#AmericanWriters
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—
823 Not that We did, shall be the tes… When Act and Will are done But what Our Lord infers We woul… Had We diviner been—
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh
915 Faith’—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not’— Too slender for the eye
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
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…
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
406 Some’—Work for Immortality’— The Chiefer part, for Time’— He’—Compensates’—immediately’— The former’—Checks’—on Fame’—