#AmericanWriters
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
172 ’Tis so much joy! ’Tis so much jo… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I, Have ventured all upon a throw!
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—
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?
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—