#AmericanWriters
A Counterfeit– a Plated Person… I would not be - Whatever strata of Iniquity My Nature underlie - Truth is good Health - and Safet…
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!
921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.
348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
