#AmericanWriters
79 Going to Heaven! I don’t know when— Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory! From marshallings as simple
The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
286 That after Horror — that ’twas us… That passed the mouldering Pier — Just as the Granite Crumb let go… Our Savior, by a Hair —
466 ’Tis little I—could care for Pear… Who own the ample sea— Or Brooches—when the Emperor— With Rubies—pelteth me—
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—