#AmericanWriters
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
93 Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravoes The bystanders will tell!
XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
21 We lose’—because we win’— Gamblers’—recollecting which Toss their dice again!
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
693 Shells from the Coast mistaking— I cherished them for All— Happening in After Ages To entertain a Pearl—
516 Beauty—be not caused—It Is— Chase it, and it ceases— Chase it not, and it abides— Overtake the Creases
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
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
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—
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod