#AmericanWriters
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
771 None can experience sting Who Bounty—have not known— The fact of Famine—could not be Except for Fact of Corn—
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
532 I tried to think a lonelier Thing Than any I had seen— Some Polar Expiation—An Omen in… Of Death’s tremendous nearness—
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came
251 Over the fence— Strawberries—grow— Over the fence— I could climb—if I tried, I know—