#AmericanWriters
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet blamed the fate that fractured…
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine
Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue… The letting go A Presence—for an Expectation— Not now— The putting out of Eyes—
423 The Months have ends—the Years—a… No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery—
832 Soto! Explore thyself! Therein thyself shalt find The “Undiscovered Continent”— No Settler had the Mind.