#AmericanWriters
99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—
Come slowly, Eden Lips unused to thee. Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee,
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
295 Unto like Story—Trouble has entic… How Kinsmen fell— Brothers and Sister—who preferred… And their young will
166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!
’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -