#AmericanWriters
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—
820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—
13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.
310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
260 Read—Sweet—how others—strove— Till we—are stouter— What they—renounced— Till we—are less afraid—
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.
The Devil—had he fidelity Would be the best friend— Because he has ability— But Devils cannot mend— Perfidy is the virtue