#AmericanWriters
454 It was given to me by the Gods— When I was a little Girl— They given us Presents most—you k… When we are new—and small.
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.
240 Ah, Moon—and Star! You are very far— But were no one Farther than you—
I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird —reach it! Curve by Curve —Sweep by Sweep — Round the Steep Air — Danger! What is that to Her?
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—