#AmericanWriters
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
819 All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness— ’Tis Economy
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
761 From Blank to Blank— A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet— To stop—or perish—or advance—
195 For this—accepted Breath— Through it—compete with Death— The fellow cannot touch this Crow… By it—my title take—
He ate and drank the precious Wor… His Spirit grew robust— He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was Dust— He danced along the dingy Days
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—
636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;