#AmericanWriters
427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—
626 Only God—detect the Sorrow— Only God— The Jehovahs—are no Babblers— Unto God—
926 Patience—has a quiet Outer— Patience—Look within— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites—between—
887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
684 Best Gains—must have the Losses’… To constitute them—Gains—
508 I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Thei… The name They dropped upon my fac… With water, in the country church Is finished using, now,
The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -
340 Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot
I DIED for beauty, but was scarc… Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
