#AmericanWriters
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—
98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown!
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—
268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow
945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—
765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity