#AmericanWriters
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—
689 The Zeroes—taught us—Phosphorous— We learned to like the Fire By playing Glaciers—when a Boy— And Tinder—guessed—by power
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in… But no Man heard Him cry— He offers His Berry, just the sam… To Partridge—and to Boy— He sometimes holds upon the Fence…
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
This quiet dust was gentlemen and… And lads and girls; Was laughter and ability and sighi… And frocks and curls; This passive place a summer’s nimb…
FORBIDDEN fruit a flavor has That lawful orchards mocks; How luscious lies the pea within The pod that Duty locks!