#AmericanWriters
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
598 Three times—we parted—Breath—and… Three times—He would not go— But strove to stir the lifeless F… The Waters—strove to stay.
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told’— Isaac was an Urchin’— Abraham was old’— Not a hesitation’—
987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…