#AmericanWriters
Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket
519 ’Twas warm—at first—like Us— Until there crept upon A Chill—like frost upon a Glass— Till all the scene—be gone.
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—
Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
118 My friend attacks my friend! Oh Battle picturesque! Then I turn Soldier too, And he turns Satirist!
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?