#AmericanWriters
631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
XII I ASKED no other thing, No other was denied. I offered Being for it; The mighty merchant smiled.
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.