#AmericanWriters
642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —
240 Ah, Moon—and Star! You are very far— But were no one Farther than you—
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—
XXXIX I MEANT to have but modest need… Such as content, and heaven; Within my income these could lie, And life and I keep even.
448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense
859 A doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
752 So the Eyes accost’—and sunder In an Audience’— Stamped’—occasionally’—forever’— So may Countenance
Growth of Man—like Growth of Nat… Gravitates within— Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it— Bit it stir—alone— Each—its difficult Ideal
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
677 To be alive’—is Power’— Existence’—in itself’— Without a further function’— Omnipotence’—Enough’—
482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—
667 Bloom upon the Mountain’—stated’— Blameless of a Name’— Efflorescence of a Sunset’— Reproduced’—the same’—
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday