#AmericanWriters
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
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
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—
423 The Months have ends—the Years—a… No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery—
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—
127 “Houses”—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
1068 Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass.