#AmericanWriters
165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I’ve heard the Hunter tell— ’Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still!
Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…
The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend— Or the most agonizing Spy— An Enemy—could send— Secure against its own—
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?
771 None can experience sting Who Bounty—have not known— The fact of Famine—could not be Except for Fact of Corn—
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
961 Wert Thou but ill—that I might sh… How long a Day I could endure Though thine attention stop not on… Nor the least signal, Me assure—
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
950 The Sunset stopped on Cottages Where Sunset hence must be For treason not of His, but Life’… Gone Westerly, Today—
307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
Tell as a Marksman - were forgot… Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble stor…