#AmericanWriters
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I’m accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
544 The Martyr Poets—did not tell— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate—encourage Some—
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
‘Faithful to the end’ Amended From the Heavenly Clause - Constancy with a Proviso Constancy abhors - ‘Crowns of Life’ are servile Priz…
578 The Body grows without— The more convenient way— That if the Spirit—like to hide Its Temple stands, alway,