#AmericanWriters
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
XII I ASKED no other thing, No other was denied. I offered Being for it; The mighty merchant smiled.
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
“Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the Worl…
528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
340 Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.