#AmericanWriters
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?
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
XIX I STARTED early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me,
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
645 Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen— A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs—between—
657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—
411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
I dwell in Possibility – A fairer House than Prose – More numerous of Windows – Superior – for Doors – Of Chambers as the Cedars –