#AmericanWriters
99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
XXI HE ate and drank the precious wor… His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust.
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
Nature rarer uses Yellow Than another Hue. Saves she all of that for Sunsets Prodigal of Blue Spending Scarlet, like a Woman
22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—