#AmericanWriters
202 My Eye is fuller than my vase— Her Cargo—is of Dew— And still—my Heart—my Eye outweig… East India—for you!
187 How many times these low feet stag… Only the soldered mouth can tell— Try—can you stir the awful rivet— Try—can you lift the hasps of stee…
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
315 He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on— He stuns you by degrees—
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…
444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
598 Three times—we parted—Breath—and… Three times—He would not go— But strove to stir the lifeless F… The Waters—strove to stay.
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
573 The Test of Love—is Death— Our Lord—"so loved"—it saith— What Largest Lover—hath Another—doth—
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
553 One Crucifixion is recorded’—only… How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics’— Or History’—
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…