#AmericanWriters
931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told
XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,
138 Pigmy seraphs’—gone astray’— Velvet people from Vevay’— Balles from some lost summer day’— Bees exclusive Coterie’—
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
651 So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate— Would a Smile’s minute bestowing
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—
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…
LIX I TOOK my power in my hand And went against the world; ’T was not so much as David had, But I was twice as bold.
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
183 I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometim… In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said— Yet held my breath, the while—