#AmericanWriters
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
I found the phrase to every though… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun To races nurtured in the dark;—
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
