#AmericanWriters
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s p…
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
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…
587 Empty my Heart, of Thee— Its single Artery— Begin, and leave Thee out— Simply Extinction’s Date—
‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us
98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown!
It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet blamed the fate that fractured…
475 Doom is the House without the Doo… ’Tis entered from the Sun— And then the Ladder’s thrown away… Because Escape—is done—
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
