#AmericanWriters
Had we our senses But perhaps ’tis well they’re not… So intimate with Madness He’s liable with them Had we the eyes without our Head—
118 My friend attacks my friend! Oh Battle picturesque! Then I turn Soldier too, And he turns Satirist!
564 My period had come for Prayer— No other Art—would do— My Tactics missed a rudiment— Creator—Was it you?
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—
871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
490 To One denied the drink To tell what Water is Would be acuter, would it not Than letting Him surmise?
161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—
798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—
High from the earth I heard a bir… He trod upon the trees As he esteemed them trifles, And then he spied a breeze, And situated softly
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
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—