#AmericanWriters
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
FATE slew him, but he did not dr… She felled’—he did not fall’— Impaled him on her fiercest stakes… He neutralized them all. She stung him, sapped his firm adv…
918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—
Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
