#AmericanWriters
619 Glee—The great storm is over— Four—have recovered the Land— Forty gone down together— Into the boiling Sand.
887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
422 More Life—went out—when He went Than Ordinary Breath— Lit with a finer Phosphor— Requiring in the Quench—
918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—
The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pa…
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
