#AmericanWriters
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
Death is like the insect Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it, But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
HE preached upon “breadth” till i… The broad are too broad to define: And of “truth” until it proclaimed… The truth never flaunted a sign. Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
Rearrange a 'Wife’s’ affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness…
There cam a Wind like a Bugle - It quivered through the Grass And a Green Chill upon the Heat So ominous did pass We barred the Windows and the Doo…
To the bright east she flies, Brothers of Paradise Remit her home, Without a change of wings, Or Love’s convenient things,
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!