#AmericanWriters
945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—
Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!
624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat
XXVIII A CHARM invests a face Imperfectly beheld,— The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled.
765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks
To the bright east she flies, Brothers of Paradise Remit her home, Without a change of wings, Or Love’s convenient things,
Two butterflies went out at noon And waltzed above a stream, Then stepped straight through the… And rested on a beam; And then together bore away