#AmericanWriters
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
172 ’Tis so much joy! ’Tis so much jo… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I, Have ventured all upon a throw!
Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?