#AmericanWriters
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—
544 The Martyr Poets’—did not tell’— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate’—encourage Some…
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!
924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
By homely gift and hindered Words The human heart is told Of Nothing - ‘Nothing’ is the force That renovates the World -
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
537 Me prove it now—Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it—now— Make haste—the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity—
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds