#AmericanWriters
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
843 I made slow Riches but my Gain Was steady as the Sun And every Night, it numbered more Than the preceding One
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
56 If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away—
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
It sounded as if the Streets were… And then– the Streets stood stil… Eclipse - was all we could see at… And Awe - was all we could feel. By and by - the boldest stole out…
295 Unto like Story—Trouble has entic… How Kinsmen fell— Brothers and Sister—who preferred… And their young will
801 I play at Riches—to appease The Clamoring for Gold— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
847 Finite’—to fail, but infinite to… For the one ship that struts the s… Many’s the gallant’—overwhelmed C… Nodding in Navies nevermore’—
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which…
425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?
