#AmericanWriters
569 I reckon—when I count it all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—
246 Forever at His side to walk— The smaller of the two! Brain of His Brain— Blood of His Blood—
964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—
815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
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.