#AmericanWriters
Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
471 A Night—there lay the Days betwee… The Day that was Before— And Day that was Behind—were one— And now—'twas Night—was here—
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
424 Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days— Myself had just to earn—
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
819 All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness— ’Tis Economy
Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar
A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
‘T was just this time last year I… I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,— It had the tassels on. I thought how yellow it would look
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
857 Uncertain lease—develops lustre On Time Uncertain Grasp, appreciation Of Sum—