#AmericanWriters
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
519 ’Twas warm—at first—like Us— Until there crept upon A Chill—like frost upon a Glass— Till all the scene—be gone.
Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.
Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away
309 For largest Woman’s Hearth I kne… ’Tis little I can do— And yet the largest Woman’s Heart Could hold an Arrow—too—
292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve—
187 How many times these low feet stag… Only the soldered mouth can tell— Try—can you stir the awful rivet— Try—can you lift the hasps of stee…
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.