#AmericanWriters
351 I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there— I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler—
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity
822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
367 Over and over, like a Tune— The Recollection plays— Drums off the Phantom Battlements Cornets of Paradise—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
338 I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.