#AmericanWriters
Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
184 A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be— Though God forbid it lift the lid… Unto its Ecstasy!
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—
186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;
XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
I DIED for beauty, but was scarc… Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—