#AmericanWriters
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
Image of Light, Adieu - Thanks for the interview - So long– so short – Preceptor of the whole - Coeval Cardinal -
XXXII HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the wor… And never stops at all,
CXXVIII I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm.
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—