#AmericanWriters
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
SUCCESS is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
552 An ignorance a Sunset Confer upon the Eye— Of Territory—Color— Circumference&mda sh;Decay—
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—
199 I’m “wife”'—I’ve finished that’— That other state’— I’m Czar’—I’m “Woman” now’— It’s safer so’—
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow
642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —
346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
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,