#AmericanWriters
166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!
The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet— He—waking—finds the flower there—
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.