#AmericanWriters
The Grass so little has to do ' A Sphere of simple Green ' With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain ' And stir all day to pretty Tunes
THE LARGEST fire ever known Occurs each afternoon, Discovered is without surprise, Proceeds without concern: Consumes, and no report to men,
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…
She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
667 Bloom upon the Mountain’—stated’— Blameless of a Name’— Efflorescence of a Sunset’— Reproduced’—the same’—
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—