#AmericanWriters
224 I've nothing else—to bring, You k… So I keep bringing These— Just as the Night keeps fetching… To our familiar eyes—
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
XXXI I FOUND the phrase to every tho… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun
Is it too late to touch you, Dear… We this moment knew - Love Marine and Love terrene - Love celestial too -
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
296 One Year ago’—jots what? God’—spell the word! I’—can’t’— Was’t Grace? Not that’— Was’t Glory? That’—will do’—
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!