#AmericanWriters
Too cold is this To warm with Sun - Too stiff to bended be, To joint this Agate were a work - Outstaring Masonry -
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
926 Patience’—has a quiet Outer’— Patience’—Look within’— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites’—between’—
I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
He preached upon ‘Breadth’ till i… The Broad are too broad to define And of ‘Truth’ until it proclaime… The Truth never flaunted a Sign— Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
604 Unto my Books’—so good to turn’— Far ends of tired Days’— It half endears the Abstinence’— And Pain’—is missed’—in Praise’—
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—
857 Uncertain lease—develops lustre On Time Uncertain Grasp, appreciation Of Sum—
417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.