#AmericanWriters
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pa…
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony
Part One: Life LIV EXPERIMENT to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel?
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -
391 A Visitor in Marl— Who influences Flowers— Till they are orderly as Busts— And Elegant—as Glass—
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society