#AmericanWriters
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -
780 The Truth — is stirless — Other force — may be presumed to m… This — then — is best for confiden… When oldest Cedars swerve —
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
553 One Crucifixion is recorded’—only… How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics’— Or History’—
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.