#AmericanWriters
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
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
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
858 This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life I mention it to you, When Sunrise through a fissure dr… The Day must follow too.
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,
656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—
33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod