#AmericanWriters
705 Suspense—is Hostiler than Death— Death—tho’soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increas… Suspense—does not conclude –
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
832 Soto! Explore thyself! Therein thyself shalt find The “Undiscovered Continent”— No Settler had the Mind.
12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense
40 When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye— When I con the people
45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.
Too cold is this To warm with Sun - Too stiff to bended be, To joint this Agate were a work - Outstaring Masonry -
400 A Tongue’—to tell Him I am true! Its fee’—to be of Gold’— Had Nature’—in Her monstrous Hou… A single Ragged Child’—
625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
LXI A LITTLE road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly.
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—