#AmericanWriters
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
‘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
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
Death is like the insect Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it, But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—