#AmericanWriters
815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me
152 The Sun kept stooping—stooping—lo… The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose!
68 Ambition cannot find him. Affection doesn’t know How many leagues of nowhere Lie between them now.
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
Image of Light, Adieu - Thanks for the interview - So long– so short – Preceptor of the whole - Coeval Cardinal -
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense– the starkest Madness… ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -
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?
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
