#AmericanWriters
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
452 The Malay—took the Pearl— Not—I—the Earl— I—feared the Sea—too much Unsanctified—to touch—
710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance