#AmericanWriters
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—
327 Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see— As other Creatures, that have Eye… And know no other way—
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
282 How noteless Men, and Pleiads, st… Until a sudden sky Reveals the fact that One is rapt Forever from the Eye—
115 What Inn is this Where for the night Peculiar Traveller comes? Who is the Landlord?
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
XCIX THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry.
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—