#AmericanWriters
217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?
138 Pigmy seraphs’—gone astray’— Velvet people from Vevay’— Balles from some lost summer day’— Bees exclusive Coterie’—
204 I’ll tell you how the Sun rose— A Ribbon at a time— The Steeples swam in Amethyst— The news, like Squirrels, ran—
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
450 Dreams—are well—but Waking’s bett… If One wake at morn— If One wake at Midnight—better— Dreaming—of the Dawn—
452 The Malay—took the Pearl— Not—I—the Earl— I—feared the Sea—too much Unsanctified—to touch—
677 To be alive’—is Power’— Existence’—in itself’— Without a further function’— Omnipotence’—Enough’—
469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—
430 It would never be Common — more —… Difference — had begun — Many a bitterness — had been — But that old sort — was done —
803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
807 Expectation—is Contentment— Gain—Satiety— But Satiety—Conviction Of Necessity
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -
Glory is that bright tragic thing That for an instant Means Dominion - Warms some poor name That never felt the Sun,