#AmericanWriters
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—
An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat
657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—
799 Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering—Despair— To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore—
Yesterday is History, ’Tis so far away - Yesterday is Poetry - ’Tis Philosophy - Yesterday is mystery -
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
197 Morning—is the place for Dew— Corn—is made at Noon— After dinner light—for flowers— Dukes—for Setting Sun!
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
865 He outstripped Time with but a Bo… He outstripped Stars and Sun And then, unjaded, challenged God In presence of the Throne.
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
345 Funny’—to be a Century’— And see the People’—going by’— I’—should die of the Oddity’— But then’—I’m not so staid’—as He…
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!