#AmericanWriters
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
327 Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see— As other Creatures, that have Eye… And know no other way—
289 I know some lonely Houses off the… A Robber’d like the look of— Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low,
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
578 The Body grows without— The more convenient way— That if the Spirit—like to hide Its Temple stands, alway,
128 Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps—
I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,
459 A Tooth upon Our Peace The Peace cannot deface— Then Wherefore be the Tooth? To vitalize the Grace—
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—
392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve—