#AmericanWriters
346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—
592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
CXII I FELT a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it s… That sense was breaking through.
780 The Truth—is stirless— Other force—may be presumed to mov… This—then—is best for confidence— When oldest Cedars swerve—
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.
XXXIX I MEANT to have but modest need… Such as content, and heaven; Within my income these could lie, And life and I keep even.
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
767 To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone— When One has failed to stop them— Is Human—but Divine
38 By such and such an offering To Mr. So and So, The web of live woven— So martyrs albums show!
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude
951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—
Part One: Life LIII GOD gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv…
