#AmericanWriters
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
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—
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…
508 I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Thei… The name They dropped upon my fac… With water, in the country church Is finished using, now,
I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed
509 If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive… At such and such a time—
606 The Trees like Tassels—hit—and sw… There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun—
970 Color — Caste — Denomination — These — are Time's Affair — Death's diviner Classifying Does not know they are —
951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”