#AmericanWriters
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
Departed to the judgment, A mighty afternoon; Great clouds like ushers leaning, Creation looking on. The flesh surrendered, cancelled
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
766 My Faith is larger than the Hills… So when the Hills decay— My Faith must take the Purple Wh… To show the Sun the way—
This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
291 How the old Mountains drip with S… How the Hemlocks burn— How the Dun Brake is draped in C… By the Wizard Sun—
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
Come slowly, Eden Lips unused to thee. Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee,
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—