If you were coming in the Fall, I’d brush the Summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As Housewives do a Fly. If I could see you in a year, I’d wind...

We do not play on Graves—Because there isn’t Room—Besides—it isn’t even—it slantsAnd People come—And put a Flower on it—And hang their faces so—We’re fearing that their Hearts will drop—And crush our pretty play—And so we...

Success is counted sweetest by those ne’er succeed.

The possible’s slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.

A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.

If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.

A wounded dear leaps the highest

We never know how high we areTill we are called to rise;And then, if we are true to plan,Our statures touch the skies.The heroism we reciteWould be a daily thing,Did not ourselves the cubits warpFor...

Il sempre è fatto di attimi.

We never know how high we are till we are called to rise. Then if we are true to form our statures touch the skies.

A precious, mouldering pleasure ’t is To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think.

The Soul selects her own Society.

I dwell in possibility…

There is a pain – so utter – It swallows substance up – Then covers the Abyss with Trance – So Memory can step Around – across – opon it – As one within a...

The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide, Earth a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth...

your brain is wider than the sky

Or help one fainting RobinUnto his Nest againI shall not live in vain.

Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.

He ate and drank the precious words,His spirit grew robust;He knew no more that he was poor,Nor that his frame was dust.He danced along the dingy days,And this bequest of wingsWas but a book. What...

While I was fearing it, it came,But came with less of fear,Because that fearing it so longHad almost made it dear.There is a fitting a dismay,A fitting a despair.’T is harder knowing it is due,Than...

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul…