#AmericanWriters
Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told’— Isaac was an Urchin’— Abraham was old’— Not a hesitation’—
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…
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
564 My period had come for Prayer— No other Art—would do— My Tactics missed a rudiment— Creator—Was it you?
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
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,
539 The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themsel… The Science of the Grave
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.