#AmericanWriters
XCIX THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry.
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
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.
202 My Eye is fuller than my vase— Her Cargo—is of Dew— And still—my Heart—my Eye outweig… East India—for you!
38 By such and such an offering To Mr. So and So, The web of live woven— So martyrs albums show!
452 The Malay—took the Pearl— Not—I—the Earl— I—feared the Sea—too much Unsanctified—to touch—
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
578 The Body grows without— The more convenient way— That if the Spirit—like to hide Its Temple stands, alway,
644 You left me—Sire—two Legacies— A Legacy of Love A Heavenly Father would suffice Had He the offer of—
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
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…
LXXXIII This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond — Invisible, as Music — But positive, as Sound —
Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—