#AmericanWriters
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
531 We dream—it is good we are dreamin… It would hurt us—were we awake— But since it is playing—kill us, And we are playing—shriek—
687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—
816 A Death blow is a Life blow to S… Who till they died, did not alive… Who had they lived, had died but w… They died, Vitality begun.
261 Put up my lute! What of—my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to cha… Passive—as Granite—laps My Music…
It sounded as if the Streets were… And then– the Streets stood stil… Eclipse - was all we could see at… And Awe - was all we could feel. By and by - the boldest stole out…
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
103 I have a King, who does not speak… So—wondering—thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away— Half glad when it is night, and sl…
’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw
765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity