#AmericanWriters
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life— Poured thee, without a stint—
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in… But no Man heard Him cry— He offers His Berry, just the sam… To Partridge—and to Boy— He sometimes holds upon the Fence…
444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—
Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which…
559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—'twas not Pain—
20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!
“Why do I love” You, Sir? Because’— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer’—Wherefore when He pass She cannot keep Her place.
951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.