#AmericanWriters
632 The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside—
168 If the foolish, call them “flowers… Need the wiser, tell? If the Savants “Classify” them It is just as well!
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue… The letting go A Presence—for an Expectation— Not now— The putting out of Eyes—
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
492 Civilization—spurns—the Leopard! Was the Leopard—bold? Deserts—never rebuked her Satin— Ethiop—her Gold—
711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—