#AmericanWriters
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
732 She rose to His Requirement—dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife—
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
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
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear
674 The Soul that hath a Guest Doth seldom go abroad— Diviner Crowd at Home— Obliterate the need—
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
457 Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—House… Sealed so stately tight— Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble— Locking Bare feet out—
836 Truth — is as old as God — His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity —
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round