#AmericanWriters
421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled—
207 Tho’ I get home how late’—how lat… So I get home - 'twill compensate… Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me’—
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
168 If the foolish, call them “flowers… Need the wiser, tell? If the Savants “Classify” them It is just as well!
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
980 Purple—is fashionable twice— This season of the year, And when a soul perceives itself To be an Emperor.
After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
Two butterflies went out at noon And waltzed above a stream, Then stepped straight through the… And rested on a beam; And then together bore away
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—