#AmericanWriters
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
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
FORBIDDEN fruit a flavor has That lawful orchards mocks; How luscious lies the pea within The pod that Duty locks!
234 You’re right—“the way is narrow”— And “difficult the Gate”— And “few there be”—Correct again— That “enter in—thereat”—
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
A Sloop of Amber slips away Upon an Ether Sea, And wrecks in Peace a Purple Tar… The Son of Ecstasy -
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
