Category Poets

The duties of the Wind are few, To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escort, And usher Liberty. The pleasures of the Wind are broad, To dwell Extent among, Remain, or wander, Speculate, or Forests entertain. The…

The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man For is it not his Bed — His Advocate — his Edifice? How safe his fallen Head In her disheveled Sanctity — Above him is the sky — Oblivion bending over him…

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear — Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year. And then, that we have followed them, We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become…

The Devil — had he fidelity Would be the best friend — Because he has ability — But Devils cannot mend — Perfidy is the virtue That would but he resign The Devil — without question Were thoroughly divine

The Days that we can spare Are those a Function die Or Friend or Nature — stranded then In our Economy Our Estimates a Scheme — Our Ultimates a Sham — We let go all of Time without Arithmetic of…

The Day she goes Or Day she stays Are equally supreme — Existence has a stated width Departed, or at Home —

The Day grew small, surrounded tight By early, stooping Night — The Afternoon in Evening deep Its Yellow shortness dropt — The Winds went out their martial ways The Leaves obtained excuse — November hung his Granite Hat Upon a…

The Day came slow — till Five o’clock — Then sprang before the Hills Like Hindered Rubies — or the Light A Sudden Musket — spills — The Purple could not keep the East — The Sunrise shook abroad Like…

The Dandelion’s pallid tube Astonishes the Grass, And Winter instantly becomes An infinite Alas — The tube uplifts a signal Bud And then a shouting Flower, — The Proclamation of the Suns That sepulture is o’er.

The competitions of the sky Corrodeless ply.