#AmericanWriters
724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.
XXIII A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
406 Some’—Work for Immortality’— The Chiefer part, for Time’— He’—Compensates’—immediately’— The former’—Checks’—on Fame’—
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
483 A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe— And golden hang—while farther up— The Maker’s Ladders stop—
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
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—
243 I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent— To wrap its shining Yards— Pluck up its stakes, and disappear… Without the sound of Boards
