#AmericanWriters
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
751 My Worthiness is all my Doubt— His Merit—all my fear— Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier—appear—
I dwell in Possibility – A fairer House than Prose – More numerous of Windows – Superior – for Doors – Of Chambers as the Cedars –
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise
205 I should not dare to leave my frie… Because—because if he should die While I was gone—and I—too late— Should reach the Heart that wante…
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead