#AmericanWriters
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv… My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the fea…
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—
472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—
‘And with what body do they come?’… Then they do come - Rejoice! What Door– What Hour– Run– ru… Illuminate the House! ‘Body!’ Then real– a Face and E…
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
71 A throe upon the features— A hurry in the breath— An ecstasy of parting Denominated “Death”—
This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—