#AmericanWriters
Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men