#AmericanWriters
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—
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—
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words
378 I saw no Way—The Heavens were st… I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemisphere… I touched the Universe—
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave… I will forget the light. When you have done pray tell me,
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—