#AmericanWriters
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds
759 He fought like those Who’ve nough… Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use—
Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,
Part One: Life LII VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost
663 Again—his voice is at the door— I feel the old Degree— I hear him ask the servant For such an one—as me—
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
You love the Lord—you cannot see— You write Him—every day— A little note—when you awake— And further in the Day. An Ample Letter—How you miss—
503 Better—than Music! For I—who hea… I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—’Twas Translat… Of all tunes I knew—and more—
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—
I DIED for beauty, but was scarc… Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
A Pang is more conspicuous in Spr… In contrast with the things that s… Not Birds entirely– but Minds – Minute Effulgencies and Winds - When what they sung for is undone
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—