#AmericanWriters
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
314 Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling— Sometimes—scalps a Tree— Her Green People recollect it When they do not die—
167 To learn the Transport by the Pai… As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst—suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run!
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
I see thee better—in the Dark— I do not need a Light— The Love of Thee—a Prism be— Excelling Violet— I see thee better for the Years
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
574 My first well Day — since many il… I asked to go abroad, And take the Sunshine in my hands… And see the things in Pod —
XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
To the bright east she flies, Brothers of Paradise Remit her home, Without a change of wings, Or Love’s convenient things,
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!