#AmericanWriters
A door just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company. The door as sudden shut, and I,
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I’ve heard the Hunter tell— ’Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still!
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.
34 Garland for Queens, may be— Laurels—for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah—but remembering me—
677 To be alive’—is Power’— Existence’—in itself’— Without a further function’— Omnipotence’—Enough’—
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
597 It always felt to me—a wrong To that Old Moses—done— To let him see—the Canaan— Without the entering—
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin