#AmericanWriters
XIII THE soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.
I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the June A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
174 At last, to be identified! At last, the lamps upon thy side The rest of Life to see! Past Midnight! Past the Morning…
577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—
775 If Blame be my side’—forfeit Me’— But doom me not to forfeit Thee’— To forfeit Thee? The very name Is sentence from Belief’—and Hous…
A Route of Evanescence With a revolving Wheel— A Resonance of Emerald— A Rush of Cochineal— And every Blossom on the Bush
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
XXXI I FOUND the phrase to every tho… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—
617 Don’t put up my Thread and Needle… I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle— Better Stitches—so—
399 A House upon the Height— That Wagon never reached— No Dead, were ever carried down— No Peddler’s Cart—approached—