#AmericanWriters
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
678 Wolfe demanded during dying “Which obtain the Day”? “General, the British”—"Easy” Answered Wolfe “to die”
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,
98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown!
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood