#AmericanWriters
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,
XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed— But tens have won an all—
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
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 Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…