#AmericanWriters
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
759 He fought like those Who’ve nough… Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use—
573 The Test of Love—is Death— Our Lord—"so loved"—it saith— What Largest Lover—hath Another—doth—
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
205 I should not dare to leave my frie… Because—because if he should die While I was gone—and I—too late— Should reach the Heart that wante…
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
405 It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness— I’m so accustomed to my Fate— Perhaps the Other—Peace—
628 They called me to the Window, for “ ’Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd—