#AmericanWriters
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
Part One: Life LII VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
667 Bloom upon the Mountain—stated— Blameless of a Name— Efflorescence of a Sunset— Reproduced—the same—
242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
