#AmericanWriters
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
Come slowly, Eden Lips unused to thee. Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee,
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
771 None can experience sting Who Bounty—have not known— The fact of Famine—could not be Except for Fact of Corn—
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—
XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
483 A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe— And golden hang—while farther up— The Maker’s Ladders stop—
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
I had not minded—Walls— Were Universe—one Rock— And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block— I’d tunnel—till my Groove
1545 The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectre… Subjects—Bethlehem&mdash ;
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
851 When the Astronomer stops seeking For his Pleiad’s Face— When the lone British Lady Forsakes the Arctic Race
