#AmericanWriters
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
155 The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft—yieldeth me— If any ask me why— ’Twere easier to die—
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
780 The Truth — is stirless — Other force — may be presumed to m… This — then — is best for confiden… When oldest Cedars swerve —
145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—
461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…
335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—
XLVII HEART, we will forget him! You and I, to—night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil