#AmericanWriters
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—
793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—
920 We can but follow to the Sun— As oft as He go down He leave Ourselves a Sphere behin… ’Tis mostly—following—
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
410 The first Day’s Night had come— And grateful that a thing So terrible—had been endured— I told my Soul to sing—
129 Cocoon above! Cocoon below! Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you so What all the world suspect? An hour, and gay on every tree
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
682 'Twould ease — a Butterfly — Elate — a Bee — Thou'rt neither — Neither — thy capacity —
207 Tho’ I get home how late’—how lat… So I get home - 'twill compensate… Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me’—
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
Part One: Life LIV EXPERIMENT to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel?
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…