#AmericanWriters
753 My Soul—accused me—And I quailed… As Tongue of Diamond had reviled All else accused me—and I smiled— My Soul—that Morning—was My frie…
MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,
777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—
396 There is a Languor of the Life More imminent than Pain— ’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the S… Has suffered all it can—
The Butterfly upon the Sky, That doesn’t know its Name And hasn’t any tax to pay And hasn’t any Home Is just as high as you and I,
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
737 The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Fac… Upon the World below—
215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
348 I would not paint — a picture — I'd rather be the One It's bright impossibility To dwell — delicious — on —
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day