#AmericanWriters
136 Have you got a Brook in your litt… Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drin… And shadows tremble so—
On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -
555 Trust in the Unexpected— By this—was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold— As One had testified—
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!
576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—
Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine
646 I think to Live—may be a Bliss To those who dare to try— Beyond my limit to conceive— My lip—to testify—
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies - Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize - Whose Allies go no more astray
Rearrange a 'Wife’s’ affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness…