#AmericanWriters
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird —reach it! Curve by Curve —Sweep by Sweep — Round the Steep Air — Danger! What is that to Her?
546 To fill a Gap Insert the Thing that caused it— Block it up With Other—and 'twill yawn the mo…
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
445 ’Twas just this time, last year,… I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms— It had the Tassels on—
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
112 Where bells no more affright the m… Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
516 Beauty—be not caused—It Is— Chase it, and it ceases— Chase it not, and it abides— Overtake the Creases
359 I gained it so— By Climbing slow— By Catching at the Twigs that gro… Between the Bliss—and me—
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—