#AmericanWriters
594 The Battle fought between the Sou… And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One—
422 More Life—went out—when He went Than Ordinary Breath— Lit with a finer Phosphor— Requiring in the Quench—
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
691 Would you like summer? Taste of o… Spices? Buy here! Ill! We have berries, for the par… Weary! Furloughs of down!
Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery
240 Ah, Moon—and Star! You are very far— But were no one Farther than you—
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
If ever the lid gets off my head And lets the brain away The fellow will go where he belong… Without a hint from me, And the world– if the world be lo…
920 We can but follow to the Sun— As oft as He go down He leave Ourselves a Sphere behin… ’Tis mostly—following—