#AmericanWriters
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
70 “Arcturus” is his other name— I’d rather call him “Star.” It’s very mean of Science To go and interfere!
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
619 Glee—The great storm is over— Four—have recovered the Land— Forty gone down together— Into the boiling Sand.
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!