#AmericanWriters
971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
516 Beauty—be not caused—It Is— Chase it, and it ceases— Chase it not, and it abides— Overtake the Creases
801 I play at Riches’—to appease The Clamoring for Gold’— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold
623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—
388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen
The grave my little cottage is, Where 'Keeping house’ for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly,
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
348 I would not paint — a picture — I'd rather be the One It's bright impossibility To dwell — delicious — on —
651 So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate— Would a Smile’s minute bestowing
Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
751 My Worthiness is all my Doubt— His Merit—all my fear— Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier—appear—
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—