#AmericanWriters
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
THE LARGEST fire ever known Occurs each afternoon, Discovered is without surprise, Proceeds without concern: Consumes, and no report to men,
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
86 South Winds jostle them— Bumblebees come— Hover—hesitate— Dri nk, and are gone—
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.