#AmericanWriters
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
393 Did Our Best Moment last— ‘Twould supersede the Heaven— A few—and they by Risk—procure— So this Sort—are not given—
Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
489 We pray—to Heaven— We prate—of Heaven— Relate—when Neighbors die— At what o’clock to heaven—they fle…
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us