#AmericanWriters
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
The Sea said 'Come’ to the Brook… The Brook said 'Let me grow’ - The Sea said 'Then you will be a… I want a Brook - Come now’! The Sea said 'Go’ to the Sea -
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
260 Read—Sweet—how others—strove— Till we—are stouter— What they—renounced— Till we—are less afraid—
841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
232 The Sun’—just touched the Morning… The Morning’—Happy thing’— Supposed that He had come to dwel… And Life would all be Spring!
43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,
983 Ideals are the Fairly Oil With which we help the Wheel But when the Vital Axle turns The Eye rejects the Oil.
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—
102 Great Caesar! Condescend The Daisy, to receive, Gathered by Cato’s Daughter, With your majestic leave!