#AmericanWriters
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper
167 To learn the Transport by the Pai… As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst—suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run!
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
811 The Veins of other Flowers The Scarlet Flowers are Till Nature leisure has for Terms As “Branch,” and “Jugular.”
828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…
The Sea said 'Come’ to the Brook… The Brook said 'Let me grow’ - The Sea said 'Then you will be a… I want a Brook - Come now’! The Sea said 'Go’ to the Sea -
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—