#AmericanWriters
894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
Rearrange a 'Wife’s’ affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness…
582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—
490 To One denied the drink To tell what Water is Would be acuter, would it not Than letting Him surmise?
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!
122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
‘They have not chosen me,’ he said… ‘But I have chosen them!’ Brave’—Broken hearted statement’— Uttered in Bethlehem! I could not have told it,
564 My period had come for Prayer— No other Art—would do— My Tactics missed a rudiment— Creator—Was it you?
987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.
652 A Prison gets to be a friend— Between its Ponderous face And Ours—a Kinsmanship express— And in its narrow Eyes—
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…