#AmericanWriters
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv… My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the fea…
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
880 The Bird must sing to earn the Cr… What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—
878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead
CXII I FELT a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it s… That sense was breaking through.
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
381 A Secret told— Ceases to be a Secret—then— A Secret—kept— That—can appal but One—
After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—
55 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted— Which blossom in the dark.