#AmericanWriters
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
851 When the Astronomer stops seeking For his Pleiad’s Face— When the lone British Lady Forsakes the Arctic Race
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,
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -
XIV I’M ceded, I ’ve stopped being th… The name they dropped upon my face With water, in the country church, Is finished using now,
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—