#AmericanWriters
A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,
977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair
666 Ah, Teneriffe! Retreating Mountain! Purples of Ages—pause for you— Sunset—reviews her Sapphire Regim…
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
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…
414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
A Counterfeit– a Plated Person… I would not be - Whatever strata of Iniquity My Nature underlie - Truth is good Health - and Safet…
“Speech”'—is a prank of Parliamen… “Tears”'—is a trick of the nerve’— But the Heart with the heaviest f… Doesn’t’—always’—move’—
235 The Court is far away— No Umpire—have I— My Sovereign is offended— To gain his grace—I’d die!