#AmericanWriters
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
925 Struck, was I, not yet by Lightni… Lightning—lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality.
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—
155 The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft—yieldeth me— If any ask me why— ’Twere easier to die—
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
836 Truth—is as old as God— His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity—
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—