We must be careful what we say. No bird resumes its egg. |
We never know where we go when we are going, We jest and shut the door; Fate - following behind us -bolts it, And we accost no more |
We turn not older with years, but newer every day. |
We'd never know how high we are, till we are called to rise; and then, if we are true to plan, our statures touch the sky |
What fortitude the Soul contains, / That it can so endure / The accent of a coming Foot-- / The opening of a Door. |
What is—"Paradise"— Who live there— Are they "Farmers"— Do they "hoe"— Do they know that this is "Amherst"— And that I—am coming—too— |
When I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeiing, Chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating. Merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder, Mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you'll be fairies all. |
When it comes, the Landscape listens - Shadows - hold their breath - When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death |
Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon. |
Where thou art, that is home. |
Who has not found the heaven below Will fail of it above. God's residence is next to min, His furniture is love. |
Why—do they shut Me out of Heaven? Did I sing—too loud? But—I can say a little "Minor" Timid as a Bird! |
Will there really be a morning? Is there such a thing as day? ... Please to tell a little pilgrim Where the place called morning lies! |
Will you tell me my fault, frankly as to yourself, for I had rather wince, than die. Men do not call the surgeon to commend the bone, but to set it, Sir. |
Without suspecting our abode until we drive away. |