#AmericanWriters
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
906 The Admirations’—and Contempts’—o… Show justest’—through an Open Tom… The Dying’—as it were a Height Reorganizes Estimate
319 Of Bronze — and Blaze — The North — tonight — So adequate — it forms — So preconcerted with itself —
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
XLVIII THOUGH I get home how late, how… So I get home, ’t will compensate… Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me,
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,