#AmericanWriters
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
238 Kill your Balm’—and its Odors ble… Bare your Jessamine’—to the storm… And she will fling her maddest per… Haply’—your Summer night to Charm…
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
My Garden’—like the Beach’— Denotes there be’—a Sea’— That’s Summer’— Such as These’—the Pearls She fetches’—such as Me
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.
107 ’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away!
Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
552 An ignorance a Sunset Confer upon the Eye— Of Territory—Color— Circumference&mda sh;Decay—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
THE Brain—is wider than the sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will include With ease—and you—beside— The Brain is deeper than the sea—
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—