#AmericanWriters
780 The Truth — is stirless — Other force — may be presumed to m… This — then — is best for confiden… When oldest Cedars swerve —
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
149 She went as quiet as the Dew From an Accustomed flower. Not like the Dew, did she return At the Accustomed hour!
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—