#AmericanWriters
A still – Volcano – Life – That flickered in the night – When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight – A quiet – Earthquake Style –
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,
Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place - Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face - All of Evening softly lit
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
832 Soto! Explore thyself! Therein thyself shalt find The “Undiscovered Continent”— No Settler had the Mind.