#AmericanWriters
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
684 Best Gains’—must have the Losses’… To constitute them’—Gains’—
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!
237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—
The spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands— And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl—unwinds— He plies from Nought to Nought—
417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
225 Jesus! thy Crucifix Enable thee to guess The smaller size! Jesus! thy second face
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
Warm in her Hand these accents li… While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake Its fond subjection wear -
895 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
XXI HE ate and drank the precious wor… His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust.