#AmericanWriters
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed— But tens have won an all—
LXXXIII This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond — Invisible, as Music — But positive, as Sound —
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
262 The lonesome for they know not Wh… The Eastern Exiles—be— Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday—
439 Undue Significance a starving man… To Food— Far off—He sighs—and therefore—Ho… And therefore—Good—
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,