#AmericanWriters
895 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me
997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.
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—
There is no Silence in the Earth… As that endured Which uttered, would discourage N… And haunt the World.
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?
THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…
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…
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
II OUR share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
906 The Admirations—and Contempts—of… Show justest—through an Open Tomb… The Dying—as it were a Height Reorganizes Estimate
450 Dreams—are well—but Waking’s bett… If One wake at morn— If One wake at Midnight—better— Dreaming—of the Dawn—
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
