#AmericanWriters
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
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.
129 Cocoon above! Cocoon below! Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you so What all the world suspect? An hour, and gay on every tree
527 To put this World down, like a Bu… And walk steady, away, Requires Energy—possibly Agony— ’Tis the Scarlet way
909 I make His Crescent fill or lack— His Nature is at Full Or Quarter—as I signify— His Tides—do I control—
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—
616 I rose—because He sank— I thought it would be opposite— But when his power dropped— My Soul grew straight.
592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
CXII I FELT a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it s… That sense was breaking through.
50 I haven’t told my garden yet— Lest that should conquer me. I haven’t quite the strength now To break it to the Bee—
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
512 The Soul has Bandaged moments— When too appalled to stir— She feels some ghastly Fright com… And stop to look at her—
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.