#AmericanWriters
588 I cried at Pity’—not at Pain’— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”'—and something in he… Convicted me’—of me’—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—
365 Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand— His Mighty Balls—in death were th…
414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony
381 A Secret told— Ceases to be a Secret—then— A Secret—kept— That—can appal but One—
On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -
842 Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound—
452 The Malay’—took the Pearl’— Not’—I’—the Earl’— I’—feared the Sea’—too much Unsanctified’—to touch’—
137 Flowers’—Well’—if anybody Can the ecstasy define’— Half a transport’—half a trouble’— With which flowers humble men:
142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.
820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—