#AmericanWriters
735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
570 I could die’—to know’— ’Tis a trifling knowledge’— News-Boys salute the Door’— Carts’—joggle by’—
999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said
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
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
LVI Faith is a fine invention For gentlemen who see; But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—