#AmericanWriters
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
To lose thee, sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew. Tis true the drought is destitute But, then, I had the dew! The Caspian has its realms of san…
590 Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s… Widths out of the Sun— And look—and shudder, and block yo… And deem to be alone
1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,
79 Going to Heaven! I don’t know when— Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
174 At last, to be identified! At last, the lamps upon thy side The rest of Life to see! Past Midnight! Past the Morning…