#AmericanWriters
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
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
490 To One denied the drink To tell what Water is Would be acuter, would it not Than letting Him surmise?
742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
XIV I’M ceded, I ’ve stopped being th… The name they dropped upon my face With water, in the country church, Is finished using now,
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
LV I envy seas whereon he rides, I envy spokes of wheels Of chariots that him convey, I envy speechless hills
Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—
XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—