#AmericanWriters
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…
987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense– the starkest Madness… ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
188 Make me a picture of the sun— So I can hang it in my room— And make believe I’m getting warm When others call it “Day”!
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
474 They put Us far apart— As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula— We signified “These see”—
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—