#AmericanWriters
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
847 Finite’—to fail, but infinite to… For the one ship that struts the s… Many’s the gallant’—overwhelmed C… Nodding in Navies nevermore’—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
336 The face I carry with me’—last’— When I go out of Time’— To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’… That face’—will just be thine’—
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
500 Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel— Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill—
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
THE Brain—is wider than the sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will include With ease—and you—beside— The Brain is deeper than the sea—
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,