#AmericanWriters
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
678 Wolfe demanded during dying “Which obtain the Day”? “General, the British”—"Easy” Answered Wolfe “to die”
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
187 How many times these low feet stag… Only the soldered mouth can tell— Try—can you stir the awful rivet— Try—can you lift the hasps of stee…
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!