#AmericanWriters
828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies - Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize - Whose Allies go no more astray
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
406 Some’—Work for Immortality’— The Chiefer part, for Time’— He’—Compensates’—immediately’— The former’—Checks’—on Fame’—
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…
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!