#AmericanWriters
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
483 A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe— And golden hang—while farther up— The Maker’s Ladders stop—
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell
677 To be alive’—is Power’— Existence’—in itself’— Without a further function’— Omnipotence’—Enough’—
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…