#AmericanWriters
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
401 What Soft—Cherubic Creatures— These Gentlewomen are— One would as soon assault a Plush… Or violate a Star—
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
728 Let Us play Yesterday— I—the Girl at school— You—and Eternity—the Untold Tale—
STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
306 The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her—alone— When friend—and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn—
I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…
824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…