#AmericanWriters
XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!
55 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted— Which blossom in the dark.
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
691 Would you like summer? Taste of o… Spices? Buy here! Ill! We have berries, for the par… Weary! Furloughs of down!
799 Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering—Despair— To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore—
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
XIII THE soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.