#AmericanWriters
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—
625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time
STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
“Houses”'—so the Wise Men tell me… Houses—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step