#AmericanWriters
961 Wert Thou but ill—that I might sh… How long a Day I could endure Though thine attention stop not on… Nor the least signal, Me assure—
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?
Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
523 Sweet — You forgot — but I rememb… Every time — for Two — So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You —
559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—'twas not Pain—
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
169 In Ebon Box, when years have flow… To reverently peer, Wiping away the velvet dust Summers have sprinkled there!
The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars
One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting