#AmericanWriters
667 Bloom upon the Mountain’—stated’— Blameless of a Name’— Efflorescence of a Sunset’— Reproduced’—the same’—
105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
CXII I FELT a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it s… That sense was breaking through.
356 The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days— Until the Coronation came— And then—'twas Otherwise—
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—
642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
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—