#AmericanWriters
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
227 Teach Him’—When He makes the nam… Such an one’—to say’— On his babbling’—Berry’—lips’— As should sound’—to me’—
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave… I will forget the light. When you have done pray tell me,
450 Dreams—are well—but Waking’s bett… If One wake at morn— If One wake at Midnight—better— Dreaming—of the Dawn—
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
There is no Silence in the Earth… As that endured Which uttered, would discourage N… And haunt the World.
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—