#AmericanWriters
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
Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat
I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
174 At last, to be identified! At last, the lamps upon thy side The rest of Life to see! Past Midnight! Past the Morning…
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
A Sloop of Amber slips away Upon an Ether Sea, And wrecks in Peace a Purple Tar… The Son of Ecstasy -
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
655 Without this—there is nought— All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird— Heard opposite the Sea—