#AmericanWriters
752 So the Eyes accost’—and sunder In an Audience’— Stamped’—occasionally’—forever’— So may Countenance
921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.
512 The Soul has Bandaged moments— When too appalled to stir— She feels some ghastly Fright com… And stop to look at her—
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
XCVI MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me,
Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine
831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
195 For this—accepted Breath— Through it—compete with Death— The fellow cannot touch this Crow… By it—my title take—
137 Flowers—Well—if anybody Can the ecstasy define— Half a transport—half a trouble— With which flowers humble men:
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—