#AmericanWriters
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—
620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—
307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—
I had not minded—Walls— Were Universe—one Rock— And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block— I’d tunnel—till my Groove
Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart - Oh Shadow on the Grass
964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—
225 Jesus! thy Crucifix Enable thee to guess The smaller size! Jesus! thy second face
853 When One has given up One’s life The parting with the rest Feels easy, as when Day lets go Entirely the West
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.