#AmericanWriters
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
365 Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
Why – do they shut Me out of Heav… Did I sing – too loud? But – I can say a little “minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me –
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
66 So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise— Hidden away, cunningly, From saga…
532 I tried to think a lonelier Thing Than any I had seen— Some Polar Expiation—An Omen in… Of Death’s tremendous nearness—
243 I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent— To wrap its shining Yards— Pluck up its stakes, and disappear… Without the sound of Boards
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east