#AmericanWriters
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
546 To fill a Gap Insert the Thing that caused it— Block it up With Other—and 'twill yawn the mo…
470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—