#AmericanWriters
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
847 Finite’—to fail, but infinite to… For the one ship that struts the s… Many’s the gallant’—overwhelmed C… Nodding in Navies nevermore’—
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…
881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
175 I have never seen “Volcanoes”— But, when Travellers tell How those old—phlegmatic mountains Usually so still—
