#AmericanWriters
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—
You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
155 The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft—yieldeth me— If any ask me why— ’Twere easier to die—
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!
578 The Body grows without— The more convenient way— That if the Spirit—like to hide Its Temple stands, alway,
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend— Or the most agonizing Spy— An Enemy—could send— Secure against its own—
