#AmericanWriters
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
942 Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Wint… I admonish Thee
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
70 “Arcturus” is his other name— I’d rather call him “Star.” It’s very mean of Science To go and interfere!
174 At last, to be identified! At last, the lamps upon thy side The rest of Life to see! Past Midnight! Past the Morning…
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—