#AmericanWriters
339 I tend my flowers for thee— Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
356 The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days— Until the Coronation came— And then—'twas Otherwise—
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!
430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—
521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
942 Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Wint… I admonish Thee
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
