#AmericanWriters
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale
52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—
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
519 ’Twas warm—at first—like Us— Until there crept upon A Chill—like frost upon a Glass— Till all the scene—be gone.
672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—
Is it too late to touch you, Dear… We this moment knew - Love Marine and Love terrene - Love celestial too -
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselv… And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
XLVIII THOUGH I get home how late, how… So I get home, ’t will compensate… Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me,