#AmericanWriters
This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species
454 It was given to me by the Gods— When I was a little Girl— They given us Presents most—you k… When we are new—and small.
89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be—
A toad can die of light! Death is the common right Of toads and men,— Of earl and midge The privilege.
881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…
523 Sweet — You forgot — but I rememb… Every time — for Two — So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You —
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv… My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the fea…
551 There is a Shame of Nobleness— Confronting Sudden Pelf— A finer Shame of Ecstasy— Convicted of Itself—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—