#AmericanWriters
990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—
340 Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
626 Only God—detect the Sorrow— Only God— The Jehovahs—are no Babblers— Unto God—
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
115 What Inn is this Where for the night Peculiar Traveller comes? Who is the Landlord?
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
168 If the foolish, call them “flowers… Need the wiser, tell? If the Savants “Classify” them It is just as well!
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light