#AmericanWriters
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty
631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—
865 He outstripped Time with but a Bo… He outstripped Stars and Sun And then, unjaded, challenged God In presence of the Throne.
711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain
643 I could suffice for Him, I knew— He—could suffice for Me— Yet Hesitating Fractions—Both Surveyed Infinity—
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as lo… Tenderness decreases as we prove—
963 A nearness to Tremendousness— An Agony procures— Affliction ranges Boundlessness— Vicinity to Laws
525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—