#AmericanWriters
MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,
447 Could—I do more—for Thee— Wert Thou a Bumble Bee— Since for the Queen, have I— Nought but Bouquet?
649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
783 The Birds begun at Four o’clock— Their period for Dawn— A Music numerous as space— But neighboring as Noon—
357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?
The wind tapped like a tired man, And like a host, ‘Come in,’ I boldly answered; entered then My residence within A rapid, footless guest,