#AmericanWriters
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—
73 Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind!
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
655 Without this—there is nought— All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird— Heard opposite the Sea—
417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
The spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands— And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl—unwinds— He plies from Nought to Nought—
979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone—
My life closed twice before its cl… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive
688 “Speech”—is a prank of Parliament… “Tears”—is a trick of the nerve— But the Heart with the heaviest f… Doesn't—always—move—
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood