#AmericanWriters
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
‘Faithful to the end’ Amended From the Heavenly Clause - Constancy with a Proviso Constancy abhors - ‘Crowns of Life’ are servile Priz…
‘T was just this time last year I… I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,— It had the tassels on. I thought how yellow it would look
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
807 Expectation—is Contentment— Gain—Satiety— But Satiety—Conviction Of Necessity
467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—
The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
169 In Ebon Box, when years have flow… To reverently peer, Wiping away the velvet dust Summers have sprinkled there!
628 They called me to the Window, for “ ’Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd—
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—