#AmericanWriters
XXVII BECAUSE I could not stop for D… He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality.
843 I made slow Riches but my Gain Was steady as the Sun And every Night, it numbered more Than the preceding One
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told’— Isaac was an Urchin’— Abraham was old’— Not a hesitation’—
985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—
I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—
321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—
91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—
There is another Loneliness That many die without - Not want of friend occasions it Or circumstances of Lot But nature, sometimes, sometimes t…
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood