#AmericanWriters
217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!
945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds