#AmericanWriters #CommonMeasure #Epigram
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe
The Grass so little has to do ' A Sphere of simple Green ' With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain ' And stir all day to pretty Tunes
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
537 Me prove it now—Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it—now— Make haste—the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity—
Part One: Life LIII GOD gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starv…
931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—
997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
“Unto Me?” I do not know you’— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus’—Late of Judea’— Now’—of Paradise"'— Wagons’—have you’—to convey me?