#AmericanWriters
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—
854 Banish Air from Air— Divide Light if you dare— They’ll meet While Cubes in a Drop
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
475 Doom is the House without the Doo… ’Tis entered from the Sun— And then the Ladder’s thrown away… Because Escape—is done—
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
