#AmericanWriters
XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
289 I know some lonely Houses off the… A Robber’d like the look of— Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low,
753 My Soul—accused me—And I quailed… As Tongue of Diamond had reviled All else accused me—and I smiled— My Soul—that Morning—was My frie…
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
Volcanoes be in Sicily And South America I judge from my Geography - Volcanos nearer here A Lava step at any time
66 So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise— Hidden away, cunningly, From saga…
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—
426 It don't sound so terrible—quite—a… I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "De… Put it in Latin—left of my school… Seems it don't shriek so—under rul…