#AmericanWriters
802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—
215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –
724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave… I will forget the light. When you have done pray tell me,
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
93 Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravoes The bystanders will tell!
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand
425 Good Morning’—Midnight’— I’m coming Home’— Day’—got tired of Me’— How could I’—of Him?