#AmericanWriters
A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
767 To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone— When One has failed to stop them— Is Human—but Divine
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
920 We can but follow to the Sun— As oft as He go down He leave Ourselves a Sphere behin… ’Tis mostly—following—
’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
Part One: Life XXXV I CAN wade grief, Whole pools of it,— I ’m used to that.
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—
LXXXIII This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond — Invisible, as Music — But positive, as Sound —
977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair