#AmericanWriters
LVI Faith is a fine invention For gentlemen who see; But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!
462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
The Sea said 'Come’ to the Brook… The Brook said 'Let me grow’ - The Sea said 'Then you will be a… I want a Brook - Come now’! The Sea said 'Go’ to the Sea -
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
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—