#AmericanWriters
351 I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there— I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler—
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
LV MY country need not change her go… Her triple suit as sweet As when ’t was cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.”
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
So much of Heaven has gone from E… That there must be a Heaven If only to enclose the Saints To Affidavit given. The Missionary to the Mole
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
The spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands— And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl—unwinds— He plies from Nought to Nought—
434 To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear,
305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—