#AmericanWriters
921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.
There is no Silence in the Earth… As that endured Which uttered, would discourage N… And haunt the World.
720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
915 Faith’—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not’— Too slender for the eye
759 He fought like those Who’ve nough… Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use—
760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting
XXIII A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.
657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—
167 To learn the Transport by the Pai… As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst—suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run!
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
