#AmericanWriters
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
192 Poor little Heart! Did they forget thee? Then dinna care! Then dinna care! Proud little Heart!
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
I breathed enough to learn the tri… And now, removed from air, I simulate the breath so well, That one, to be quite sure The lungs are stirless, must desce…
945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?
940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—
1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
A little Snow was here and there Disseminated in her Hair - Since she and I had met and playe… Decade had gathered to Decade - But Time had added not obtained
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!