#AmericanWriters
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa… Conscious—as old Napoleon,
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselv… And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
749 All but Death, can be Adjusted— Dynasties repaired— Systems—settled in their Sockets— Citadels—dissolved—
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
651 So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate— Would a Smile’s minute bestowing
LV I envy seas whereon he rides, I envy spokes of wheels Of chariots that him convey, I envy speechless hills
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life— Poured thee, without a stint—
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
240 Ah, Moon—and Star! You are very far— But were no one Farther than you—