#AmericanWriters
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
965 Denial—is the only fact Perceived by the Denied— Whose Will—a numb significance— The Day the Heaven died—
550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
587 Empty my Heart, of Thee— Its single Artery— Begin, and leave Thee out— Simply Extinction’s Date—