#AmericanWriters
260 Read—Sweet—how others—strove— Till we—are stouter— What they—renounced— Till we—are less afraid—
822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
I had not minded—Walls— Were Universe—one Rock— And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block— I’d tunnel—till my Groove
941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize
316 The Wind didn’t come from the Orc… Further than that— Nor stop to play with the Hay— Nor joggle a Hat—
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…
568 We learned the Whole of Love— The Alphabet—the Words— A Chapter—then the mighty Book— Then—Revelation closed—
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
SUCCESS is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—