#AmericanWriters
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
246 Forever at His side to walk— The smaller of the two! Brain of His Brain— Blood of His Blood—
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which…
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…