#AmericanWriters
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
LVI Faith is a fine invention For gentlemen who see; But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!
867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—
261 Put up my lute! What of—my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to cha… Passive—as Granite—laps My Music…
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
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