#AmericanWriters #CommonMeasure #Epigram
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard— Till morning touching mountain—
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
XIII THE soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…
383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—
599 There is a pain’—so utter’— It swallows substance up’— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step