#AmericanWriters
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —