#AmericanWriters #CommonMeasure #Epigram
771 None can experience sting Who Bounty—have not known— The fact of Famine—could not be Except for Fact of Corn—
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
Part One: Life XXXV I CAN wade grief, Whole pools of it,— I ’m used to that.
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown!
925 Struck, was I, not yet by Lightni… Lightning—lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality.
957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
Yesterday is History, ’Tis so far away - Yesterday is Poetry - ’Tis Philosophy - Yesterday is mystery -
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–