#AmericanWriters
760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
XCIX THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry.
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
Rearrange a 'Wife’s’ affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness…
542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—