#AmericanWriters
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
682 'Twould ease — a Butterfly — Elate — a Bee — Thou'rt neither — Neither — thy capacity —
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
High from the earth I heard a bir… He trod upon the trees As he esteemed them trifles, And then he spied a breeze, And situated softly
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
138 Pigmy seraphs’—gone astray’— Velvet people from Vevay’— Balles from some lost summer day’— Bees exclusive Coterie’—
363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…