#AmericanWriters
983 Ideals are the Fairly Oil With which we help the Wheel But when the Vital Axle turns The Eye rejects the Oil.
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—'twas not Pain—
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
988 The Definition of Beauty is That Definition is none— Of Heaven, easing Analysis, Since Heaven and He are one.
344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
Yesterday is History, ’Tis so far away - Yesterday is Poetry - ’Tis Philosophy - Yesterday is mystery -
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation