#AmericanWriters
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—
888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
515 No Crowd that has occurred Exhibit—I suppose That General Attendance That Resurrection—does—
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
31 Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole—are done!
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—