#AmericanWriters
As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust
283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
660 ’Tis good—the looking back on Gri… To re-endure a Day— We thought the Mighty Funeral— Of All Conceived Joy—
632 The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside—
243 I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent— To wrap its shining Yards— Pluck up its stakes, and disappear… Without the sound of Boards
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
206 The Flower must not blame the Bee… That seeketh his felicity Too often at her door— But teach the Footman from Vevay—
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa… Conscious—as old Napoleon,
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?