#AmericanWriters
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,
222 When Katie walks, this simple pai… When Katie runs unwearied they fo… When Katie kneels, their loving h… Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, wit…
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
LXXXV A LIGHT exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.