#AmericanWriters
742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—
716 The Day undressed—Herself— Her Garter—was of Gold— Her Petticoat—of Purple plain— Her Dimities—as old
445 ’Twas just this time, last year,… I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms— It had the Tassels on—
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
Rearrange a 'Wife’s’ affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness…
Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue… The letting go A Presence—for an Expectation— Not now— The putting out of Eyes—
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—
XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
XIX I STARTED early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me,
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.
8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables