#AmericanWriters
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading—treading—till it see… That Sense was breaking through— And when they all were seated,
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
753 My Soul—accused me—And I quailed… As Tongue of Diamond had reviled All else accused me—and I smiled— My Soul—that Morning—was My frie…
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…
443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—
I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
319 Of Bronze — and Blaze — The North — tonight — So adequate — it forms — So preconcerted with itself —
594 The Battle fought between the Sou… And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One—
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
604 Unto my Books’—so good to turn’— Far ends of tired Days’— It half endears the Abstinence’— And Pain’—is missed’—in Praise’—