#AmericanWriters
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
289 I know some lonely Houses off the… A Robber’d like the look of— Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low,
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—
Longing is like the Seed That wrestles in the Ground, Believing if it intercede It shall at length be found. The Hour, and the Clime -
999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said
634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—
65 I can’t tell you—but you feel it— Nor can you tell me— Saints, with ravished slate and pe… Solve our April Day!
XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
379 Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight— Affords a Bliss like Murder— Omnipotent—Acute—
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age
208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—
XXVII I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you—Nobody—too? Then there’s a pair of us! Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you k…