#AmericanWriters
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—
84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
895 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
626 Only God—detect the Sorrow— Only God— The Jehovahs—are no Babblers— Unto God—
306 The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her—alone— When friend—and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn—
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
762 The Whole of it came not at once— ’Twas Murder by degrees— A Thrust—and then for Life a chan… The Bliss to cauterize—
Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart - Oh Shadow on the Grass
A Sickness of this World it most… When Best Men die. A Wishfulness their far Condition To occupy. A Chief indifference, as Foreign