#AmericanWriters
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—
563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
762 The Whole of it came not at once— ’Twas Murder by degrees— A Thrust—and then for Life a chan… The Bliss to cauterize—
872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
447 Could—I do more—for Thee— Wert Thou a Bumble Bee— Since for the Queen, have I— Nought but Bouquet?
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.