#AmericanWriters
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
564 My period had come for Prayer— No other Art—would do— My Tactics missed a rudiment— Creator—Was it you?
783 The Birds begun at Four o’clock— Their period for Dawn— A Music numerous as space— But neighboring as Noon—
970 Color — Caste — Denomination — These — are Time's Affair — Death's diviner Classifying Does not know they are —
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—
467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
THE Brain—is wider than the sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will include With ease—and you—beside— The Brain is deeper than the sea—
345 Funny—to be a Century— And see the People—going by— I—should die of the Oddity— But then—I’m not so staid—as He—
325 Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White— The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Ran… Of Victors—designate—
Death leaves Us homesick, who beh… Except that it is gone Are ignorant of its Concern As if it were not born. Through all their former Places,…
