#AmericanWriters
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
665 Dropped into the Ether Acre— Wearing the Sod Gown— Bonnet of Everlasting Laces— Brooch—frozen on—
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
137 Flowers—Well—if anybody Can the ecstasy define— Half a transport—half a trouble— With which flowers humble men:
Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
314 Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling— Sometimes—scalps a Tree— Her Green People recollect it When they do not die—
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
345 Funny’—to be a Century’— And see the People’—going by’— I’—should die of the Oddity’— But then’—I’m not so staid’—as He…
538 ’Tis true—They shut me in the Col… But then—Themselves were warm And could not know the feeling ’tw… Forget it—Lord—of Them—
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,