#AmericanWriters
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselv… And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
XVII WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair
477 No Man can compass a Despair— As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed—
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which…
LV I envy seas whereon he rides, I envy spokes of wheels Of chariots that him convey, I envy speechless hills
XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…
Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance
277 What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate— And pass escaped—to thee! What if I file this Mortal—off—
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—