#AmericanWriters
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
Me prove it now—Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it—now— Make haste—the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity— The River reaches to my feet—
“Houses”'—so the Wise Men tell me… Houses—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?
707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— ’Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,
