#AmericanWriters
594 The Battle fought between the Sou… And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One—
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
226 Should you but fail at—Sea— In sight of me— Or doomed lie— Next Sun—to die—
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
205 I should not dare to leave my frie… Because—because if he should die While I was gone—and I—too late— Should reach the Heart that wante…
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
204 I’ll tell you how the Sun rose— A Ribbon at a time— The Steeples swam in Amethyst— The news, like Squirrels, ran—
XLVI A THOUGHT went up my mind to—d… That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year,
A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine