#AmericanWriters
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
LXVII A DEED knocks first at thought, And then it knocks at will. That is the manufacturing spot, And will at home and well.
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
XLVII HEART, we will forget him! You and I, to—night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away! ’Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
405 It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness— I’m so accustomed to my Fate— Perhaps the Other—Peace—
849 The good Will of a Flower The Man who would possess Must first present Certificate
1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different
872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
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,
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather