#AmericanWriters
803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—
338 I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
628 They called me to the Window, for “ ’Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd—
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
268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—