#AmericanWriters
A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way. The wealth might disappoint,
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me, So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
The day came slow, till five o’clo… Then sprang before the hills, Like hindered rubies, or the light… A sudden musket spills. The purple could not keep the east…
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,