#AmericanWriters
The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
327 Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see— As other Creatures, that have Eye… And know no other way—
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
420 You’ll know it—as you know ’tis N… By Glory— As you do the Sun— By Glory—
363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…
344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
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…
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me– The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality. We slowly drove– He knew no haste