#AmericanWriters
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
I DIED for beauty, but was scarc… Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading—treading—till it see… That Sense was breaking through— And when they all were seated,
306 The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her—alone— When friend—and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn—
964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—
281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…
A thought went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where it went, nor why it came
Tie the strings to my life, my Lo… Then I am ready to go! Just a look at the horses— Rapid! That will do! Put me in on the firmest side,
350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near