#AmericanWriters
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
684 Best Gains’—must have the Losses’… To constitute them’—Gains’—
My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
Presentiment is that long shadow o… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
181 I lost a World - the other day! Has Anybody found? You’ll know it by the Row of Star… Around its forehead bound.
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—
Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told’— Isaac was an Urchin’— Abraham was old’— Not a hesitation’—