#AmericanWriters
838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine
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—
687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—
855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
By homely gift and hindered Words The human heart is told Of Nothing - ‘Nothing’ is the force That renovates the World -
I started Early– Took my Dog – And visited the Sea - The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me - And Frigates - in the Upper Floo…
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
835 Nature and God—I neither knew Yet Both so well knew me They startled, like Executors Of My identity.
276 Many a phrase has the English lan… I have heard but one— Low as the laughter of the Cricke… Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue—