#AmericanWriters
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—
567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
319 Of Bronze—and Blaze— The North—tonight— So adequate—it forms— So preconcerted with itself—
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!