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William Blake

Cruelty has a human heartAnd jealousy a human face,Terror the human form divine,And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,The human form a fiery forge,The human face a furnace seal’d,The human heart its hungry gorge. — William Blake, from “The Divine Image,” Songs of Innocence and of Experience. (1789)

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E.E. Cummings

[)when what hugs stopping earth than silent is] )when what hugs stopping earth than silent is more silent than more than much more is or total sun oceaning than any this tear jumping from each most least eye of star and without was if minus and shall be immeasurable happenless unnow shuts more than open… Continue reading E.E. Cummings

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Rabindranath Tagore

My dearest life, I know you are not mine forever; but do love me even if it’s for this moment. After that I shall vanish into the forest where you cast me, I won’t ask anyone for anything again. Give me something that can last me till I die. ― Rabindranath Tagore, Choker Bali. (Rupa… Continue reading Rabindranath Tagore

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W.B. Yeats

And you would murmur tender words, Forgiving me, because you were dead: Nor would you rise and hasten away, Though you have the will of wild birds, But know your hair was bound and wound About the stars and moon and sun. — W.B. Yeats, from “He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead,” The Wind Among… Continue reading W.B. Yeats

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Emily Dickinson

How many flowers fail in Wood – Or perish from the Hill – Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful – How many cast a nameless Pod Upon the nearest Breeze – Unconscious of the Scarlet Freight – It bear to other eyes – — Emily Dickinson, from “Fascicle Twenty-Eight, Sheet Three, spring… Continue reading Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson

To wait an Hour – is long – If Love be just beyond – To wait Eternity – is short – If Love reward the end – — Emily Dickinson, from “Fascicle Thirty-Nine, Sheet Four, early 1864,” Emily Dickinson’s Poems As She Preserved Them, ed. Christanne Miller (Belknap, 2016)

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Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That could abash the little Bird That kept so many… Continue reading Emily Dickinson

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American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Excerpt · Nature · Passage · Poetry · Romanticism · Transcendentalism

Emily Dickinson

Come slowly, Eden! Lips unused to thee, Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee, Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums, Counts his nectars–enters, And is lost in balms! — Emily Dickinson, “Come slowly, Eden,” [211], The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (Little, Brown & Co.,1960)

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