#AmericanWriters
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow
Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…
689 The Zeroes—taught us—Phosphorous— We learned to like the Fire By playing Glaciers—when a Boy— And Tinder—guessed—by power
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
Volcanoes be in Sicily And South America I judge from my Geography - Volcanos nearer here A Lava step at any time
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
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,
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—