#AmericanWriters
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
400 A Tongue’—to tell Him I am true! Its fee’—to be of Gold’— Had Nature’—in Her monstrous Hou… A single Ragged Child’—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
689 The Zeroes’—taught us’—Phosphorou… We learned to like the Fire By playing Glaciers’—when a Boy’— And Tinder’—guessed’—by power
604 Unto my Books’—so good to turn’— Far ends of tired Days’— It half endears the Abstinence’— And Pain’—is missed’—in Praise’—
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh