#AmericanWriters
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—
365 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
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
689 The Zeroes—taught us—Phosphorous— We learned to like the Fire By playing Glaciers—when a Boy— And Tinder—guessed—by power
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
IF I can stop one heart from brea… I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching… Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
XIX I STARTED early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me,