#AmericanWriters
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.
471 A Night—there lay the Days betwee… The Day that was Before— And Day that was Behind—were one— And now—'twas Night—was here—
65 I can’t tell you—but you feel it— Nor can you tell me— Saints, with ravished slate and pe… Solve our April Day!
Part One: Life LIV EXPERIMENT to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel?
751 My Worthiness is all my Doubt— His Merit—all my fear— Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier—appear—
A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,
903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.
944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species
674 The Soul that hath a Guest Doth seldom go abroad— Diviner Crowd at Home— Obliterate the need—
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—