#AmericanWriters
To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—
959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect
XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you