#AmericanWriters
759 He fought like those Who’ve nough… Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use—
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
HE preached upon “breadth” till i… The broad are too broad to define: And of “truth” until it proclaimed… The truth never flaunted a sign. Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
394 ’Twas Love’—not me’— Oh punish’—pray’— The Real one died for Thee’— Just Him’—not me’—
XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.
To my quick ear the leaves conferr… The bushes they were bells; I could not find a privacy From Nature’s sentinels. In cave if I presumed to hide,
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—
734 If He were living—dare I ask— And how if He be dead— And so around the Words I went— Of meeting them—afraid—
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—