#AmericanWriters
The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
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
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour
My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper
569 I reckon—when I count it all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
138 Pigmy seraphs’—gone astray’— Velvet people from Vevay’— Balles from some lost summer day’— Bees exclusive Coterie’—
189 It’s such a little thing to weep— So short a thing to sigh— And yet—by Trades—the size of the… We men and women die!
A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict