#AmericanWriters
448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
244 It is easy to work when the soul i… But when the soul is in pain— The hearing him put his playthings… Makes work difficult—then—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,
757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—
Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on.
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
766 My Faith is larger than the Hills… So when the Hills decay— My Faith must take the Purple Wh… To show the Sun the way—
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—