#AmericanWriters
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
807 Expectation—is Contentment— Gain—Satiety— But Satiety—Conviction Of Necessity
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—
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature
Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—