#AmericanWriters
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
544 The Martyr Poets’—did not tell’— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate’—encourage Some…
A door just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company. The door as sudden shut, and I,
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
SUCCESS is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host
“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear
208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—
351 I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there— I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler—
773 Deprived of other Banquet, I entertained Myself— At first—a scant nutrition— An insufficient Loaf—
951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
230 We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing… ’Tisn’t all Hock—with us— Life has its Ale— But it’s many a lay of the Dim Bu…
587 Empty my Heart, of Thee— Its single Artery— Begin, and leave Thee out— Simply Extinction’s Date—
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!