#AmericanWriters
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
909 I make His Crescent fill or lack— His Nature is at Full Or Quarter—as I signify— His Tides—do I control—
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
816 A Death blow is a Life blow to S… Who till they died, did not alive… Who had they lived, had died but w… They died, Vitality begun.
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
