#AmericanWriters
454 It was given to me by the Gods— When I was a little Girl— They given us Presents most—you k… When we are new—and small.
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown - Who ponders this tremendous scene… This whole Experiment of Green -
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables
343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
31 Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole—are done!